


A Southern Wolf

by VVSIGNOFTHECROSS



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen, War Of The Five Kings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-06 21:01:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 42
Words: 66,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1872300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VVSIGNOFTHECROSS/pseuds/VVSIGNOFTHECROSS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Your grandfather's father had a sister who wed a younger son of Lord Raymar Royce, she herself had three daughters one of whom wed a Waynwood." Where events conspire to make Wallace Waynwood King of the North and Trident</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Lord Eddard Stark**

He had been Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North now for six years, and still it felt strange to sit where his father had once sat, and to do the things his father had once done. By rights all of this should have been Brandon’s, by rights everything Eddard had gotten when Aerys Targaryen had had both his father and brother executed should have been Brandon’s. It was those thoughts that often kept Eddard up at night, he felt guilt about taking what should have been Brandon’s including his wife Catelyn, he felt guilt about doing things that should have been Brandon’s to do. The feelings he had had as a child, that he was only half the man Brandon had been always came to haunt him, as he would sit in his solar and read through various things. His father and brother’s ghosts haunted him still, throughout the nights and days that had come since Robert’s Rebellion had ended with Robert seated on the throne.

He did have the feeling that he had done his bit thought show the northern lords that just because he had grown up in the Vale, he would not abandon those practices that the north had followed for thousands of years. He felt that he had earnt their respect now, especially after the Greyjoy Rebellion, in which one of his bannermen Jorah Mormont had been knighted by Robert himself, and had been one of the first over the walls of Pyke, Mormont had wed Lynesse Hightower and from what Ned had heard from the rumour mill the marriage was not working out as well as his friend had thought it would. Ned just hoped Jorah would use his commons sense and not try to do too much to impress his southern wife. As to another one of the interesting developments in the north amongst Ned’s bannermen, was the fact that Roose Bolton’s wife, Bethany who was roughly the same age as Ned’s cousin Benjen would have been had he survived through the war had given birth to a little girl whom she had named Lyarra. Roose Bolton one of Ned’s more dangerous bannermen now had two true heirs to the Dreadfort, his son Domeric who was about four years older than Ned’s own son Robb, and Lyarra. There was also Bolton’s bastard who had already begun creating trouble, but that was a matter Bolton had assured Ned he would take care of.

As to his own family, after a very shaky start to his and Catelyn’s marriage, Ned liked to think things had improved, they had gotten over the initial awkwardness of him being Brandon’s replacement, and they were working together now to ensure that their children grew up happy and safe. After seeing Catelyn with their children, Robb, Sansa and baby Arya as well as with Jon, Ned was convinced that she was a perfect lady and that he was beginning to feel more than just fond of her. With regards to their children, Ned loved them all very much, his pack had after Robert’s rebellion had been whittled down to just he and Benjen, and then Benjen had taken the black and it had just been him and his wife and young son, and now that the pack was growing he felt happier and safer. His eldest son Robb was a bundle of energy always doing some sort of mischief and always attentive, reminding him so much of Brandon that sometimes it did hurt, his daughter Sansa was already a sweet little girl and Ned knew she would be a perfect lady. Arya though only a babe, Ned just knew that she would be a handful when she grew up, if how active and loud she was now was any indication. As to Jon, well his bastard son (though not truly his bastard son, a precaution he had taken) well Jon looked so much like him and acted so much like he supposedly had acted as a child that it was hard for Ned not take extra care with him. Ned had meant to keep the truth of Jon’s parentage from everyone, so as to better protect him from any potential plotters, but when his own mother had taken one look at the boy who he claimed was his bastard she had known straight away whose son he was and she had simply looked at him and said. “You will need to tell Catelyn sweetling, keeping such a thing from your wife will only taint your marriage.” And so he had told her the truth, and though she did not view Jon as her own flesh and blood, she was not as harsh to him as he had thought most southerners were to their own bastards, and for that he was more than grateful.

He would never stop being amazed at just how understanding and patient his wife could be, for after he had returned from the Greyjoy Rebellion, he had come back with Theon Greyjoy now the heir to Pyke, and his ward for the next however many years. Something Robert had suggested would be good for them all as it would perhaps prevent something similar from happening again, Ned was not sure how convinced he truly was about it all and yet he had taken Theon and brought him home to Winterfell where Robb had eagerly accepted him as a new playmate, and Jon following his brother’s lead also tagged along. Catelyn had accepted Theon as easily as she could. And now with another ward about to join Theon and their pack she had also made preparations for this new ward, Wallace Waynwood, his cousin Anya’s youngest son. Wallace and his mother were the descendants of Ned’s grandfather’s sister Jorelle’s eldest daughter Lorra and her husband Devon Waynwood. As such Ned viewed the fostering of Wallace as something that made perfect sense, should something happen to him or his, it would make sense to have their closest living blood relatives in Winterfell having known the north and the north knowing them, it also made sense to keep close ties to the Vale considering Ned’s own fostering there.

A knock on the door took him from his thoughts, and he called for whoever it was to enter, he found himself looking at his wife, her hair tied in a neat bun and her cheeks rosy. “They are nearing the entrance my lord.” Catelyn said.

Ned nodded and rose and walked towards the door taking his wife’s hand. “Let us go and greet Cousin Wallace then shall we my lady?”

As they walked down to the courtyard Ned was pleased to see that his children were already present, Arya in the arms of her wet nurse, though the nurse was quickly dismissed when Catelyn took the babe from her arms. They stood waiting for the carriage to arrive, and soon enough it did. It had been many a year since Ned had last seen his cousin Anya Waynwood, she looked dignified as ever, riding her horse, her two older sons Morton and Donnel riding beside her, whilst a small lad with dark black hair and grey eyes riding a small horse next to his mother on the right. They stopped and dismounted, as Anya got towards them, Ned got down on one knee and kissed her hand saying. “My lady, it has been far too long. Welcome to Winterfell.”

“Thank you my lord, now if I might introduce you to my son. Wallace come forward.” Lady Anya said.

Wallace Waynwood was the same height as Jon, his black hair shoulder length, his grey eyes were downcast as he came forward to meet Ned. Ned took the initiative and said. “Hello Wallace, I am Lord Eddard and this is my wife Lady Catelyn. Here we have my children Robb, Jon, Sansa and Arya. I hope you enjoy your time here in Winterfell and if you need anything at all please do you let me or one of the attendants know and we do our best to make sure that your needs are seen to.”

Wallace was as shy as any six year old boy replied. “Thank you my lord.” After that they dispersed with Wallace going to play with Robb, Jon and Theon whilst Ned and Anya and Catelyn retired to Ned’s solar.

They sat down in his solar and then Ned spoke. “I hope your journey was safe and pleasant and that there were no troubles on your way to White Harbour Anya.”

His cousin took a sip of water and then said. “Aye it was okay Ned. There were a few disturbances along the way but all in all it was a safe journey. Now enough about that, what news have you heard about King’s Landing and the south since you returned from Pyke?”

Ned looked at Catelyn then and for a moment wondered what could have happened since the time he had last seen Robert some four moons ago. “All I know is that Robert held a celebratory feast after coming back from Lannisport, and that there was some discussion over whom to name as the replacement for Ser Ronald Connington as Master of Coin. Apart from that we have not heard anything more.”

He is surprised when his cousin sighs, her voice is soft when she says. “Well I can tell you that King Robert has come to a decision about the master of coin. He has chosen on the advice of Lord Arryn, Petyr Baelish. The man has already begun improving the royal coffers.”

There is silence for a long moment and then Ned says. “Well that is an interesting choice, but I have heard that Lord Baelish has done his bit to improve the economy of the Vale. What Robert does is no concern of mine, so long as it does not affect me, my family or my people. Whatever past deeds Baelish has done do not truly matter to me now, so long as he remains in King’s Landing.”

His cousin nods and says. “Well then, seeing as you are mature enough to say that I suppose it shall be enough to ease Jon’s worries then.”

With that their conversation ends and four days later the Waynwoods say good bye to Wallace and depart for Iron Oaks, whilst Ned still ponders over what his cousin meant, he hopes nothing serious for he does not think he can deal with the south again, not for a long time.


	2. Whiskers

**Ser Rodrik Cassel**

Life in Winterfell had largely returned to normal in the years since the war that had seen the Targaryens removed from the throne. At first, returning from the war in the south, life had felt strange and almost nonexistent, especially without Martyn there to crack jokes and make everyone laugh. There had been a somber atmosphere hanging over Winterfell, the people felt the losses of the war very close to home, after all many of those who lived at Winterfell and served the Starks had either grown up with Lord Eddard and his siblings or had had a hand in raising them, and therefore the deaths of Lord Rickard, Brandon and Lady Lyanna affected everyone, and for the longest time though they all tried to get on with their lives, it was hard to do so without thinking back to times past. Rodrik himself had felt the shade of his older brother Martyn hanging over him for quite some time, his older brother had died in Dorne leaving Rodrik the duty to make sure Jory came into manhood a respectable and honourable man. As such that task had placed quite a heavy burden on Rodrik though his nephew was now twenty and had matured a fair bit since his father’s death and so Rodrik felt the burden was easier now.

His own family was largely settled now, his wife Serena had given birth to a little girl whom they had named Beth, and though he had hoped for a son, Rodrik would be lying if he said that he wasn’t more besotted by his little girl than he would ever have been with a son. Beth was his world, Beth was a kind and sweet little girl with her curly auburn hair and doe eyed smile, she was a charmer and would have many boys chasing after her in a few years time Rodrik knew. As to his wife Serena, she was from the Winter Town and he deeply loved her, she was his third wife, but the one he cared about the most, she was charming and smart and kind, and they were able to have proper discussions. Something that had been lacking from his previous two marriages, the first of which Lord Rickard had arranged for him, a marriage to one Wylla Fenn, supposedly named after a former mistress of one Brandon Stark or the other, she had died after the birth of their last daughter, who had died during a wildling raid. His second wife, Marna had been a distant cousin from his mother’s side and as such she had been rather simple and had died trying to give him a son as well. All of that had happened a very long time ago though, and now he was simply happy he had a family that he had craved for so long.

Of course as master at arms at Winterfell, it was Rodrik’s duty to make sure Lord Eddard’s sons and his two wards Theon Greyjoy and Wallace Waynwood were trained in the art of weaponry and knew how to defend themselves. And as such as he watched the boys spar in the yard with wooden swords he had a few pointers for them all. “Robb move your feet to the left a bit, if you keep them so firmly rooted during an actual battle your opponent will not be as hesitant as Wallace is and will knock you on your arse.” Robb the heir to Winterfell changed his posture and soon enough was winning the fight against young Wallace. Rodrik nodded and then turned to look at where Jon Snow Lord Eddard’s bastard and Theon Greyjoy were fighting. “Theon,” Rodrik shouted to be heard over the din. “Stop hacking at Snow, and try to actually fight. We are no on the Iron Islands anymore boy. If you keep hacking at him, you will only tire yourself out and end up either getting seriously hurt or killed. As for you Jon, you have to stop playing on the defensive, if you keep doing that eventually your opponent will find a way to break through your defences and then where will that leave you?”

Jon Snow, managed to block another one of Greyjoy’s swings before replying in that deep tone of his. “On the ground dead Ser.”

“Aye lad, now raise your sword up and keep swinging lad.” Rodrik said, before he turned to see how Robb and Wallace were doing. As he thought Robb had Wallace on the back foot, hitting him with a solid one two attack that Rodrik had seen his father favour in the training yard as well. “You need to move quicker Wallace,” Rodrik barked. “Constantly moving backwards will force you into the dirt and then you won’t have a way out.”

At that Wallace seemed to pick up speed and using his natural agility began picking up the speed and began swinging at Robb with some great force. Rodrik nodded and then turned to Snow and Greyjoy battering away at one another. At first he thought they were simply fighting normally and then he saw the anger in both their faces, and the fact that neither of them were actually aiming for the other’s swords but rather for each other. “Stop,” Rodrik bellowed. When they did not stop he walked over to them and roared. “Stop.” When that did not do the trick, he grabbed both of their swords when they were still raised and held them there. “Now I am going to let go, but before I do I want to know what caused this sudden change in pace and aggression. Neither of you are fighting in actual battle. So why were you pummelling each other?”

Neither boy spoke for a long moment it was only when Rodrik said. “If neither of you will say what caused this change to me, then I will take you both before Lord Stark, and you can explain why you are both bleeding to him.”

At that Jon spoke first, his voice sounding soft and ashamed. “Theon called me a bastard and said that my mother was some camp follower that my father slept with during the war and that he was ashamed of me and that was why he wouldn’t tell me who my mother is.”

Rodrik sighed then and turned to Theon who looked scared. “Is this true Theon?”

The lad thankfully admitted to it and said. “Yes Ser.”

“Well then I do not have to tell you what to do. Apologise to Jon and move on from there. You are not children anymore; you cannot just keep doing these childish insults anymore.” Rodrik replied.

Once Greyjoy had apologised to Snow, Rodrik allowed them to keep fighting for some more time before he eventually called an end to practice and made sure that the boys went to their lessons with Maester Luwin. After they were inside, he himself went to speak with his nephew Jory and see how he was doing, but before he could, a servant came up and told him that Lord Eddard wished to speak with him. Wondering what Lord Eddard could wish to speak about, Rodrik walked to Lord Eddard’s solar knocked once and then once told to enter, entered the solar. Lord Eddard was stood looking out into the courtyard and turned round once Rodrik had closed the door. “You wished to see me, my lord?” Rodrik asked.

Lord Eddard turned round and not for the first time, Rodrik was amazed at just how old the man looked. He was only thirty and yet he seemed as if he was forty, and his attitude towards life was something that Rodrik at times envied and pitied. “Aye Ser Rodrik I did. I wanted to know how the boys are getting on at their practice. Theon will soon be a man grown and as such will need to start practicing with the other men, I will not have him practicing with the children and having his growth stunted. Now tell me how are they getting on.”

Rodrik paused for a moment before he spoke. “Lord Robb and Jon are the much better warriors my lord. They have greater natural talent and the greater drive to want to work on that talent and turn it into something good and healthy. Theon is not as inclined towards working at swords or other weaponry that is nor a bow and arrow. That is the Ironborn in him, and as such he is the best archer out of the group if not in Winterfell as a whole. As to Wallace, he is more inclined to riding his horse than to actual doing weapons practice, though there is none better than him at fighting whilst on horseback.”

Lord Eddard was silent for a moment before he said. “That is good, at least they are all coming along nicely in their development. Now what do you make of Wallace Ser Rodrik?”

Rodrik was a little taken aback by this question but answered it nonetheless. “Wallace is a good lad my lord. He can be a bit quiet at times though he is always willing to help his friends, and I know there is an innate desire within him to do his mother proud. If I might be so bold my lord, why do you ask?”

Lord Eddard was silent for a moment and then when he replied, Rodrik felt the chills go up his arm. “When winter comes we shall need all the friends we can have, it is important that the boys get along now and are friends. For Winter will come just as surely as the sun rises and sets. And when it does we must be prepared.”


	3. Thanks For The Memories

**Wallace Waynwood**

He had been living in Winterfell for eight years now, he had turned fourteen some two weeks ago, and a great celebration had been held to commemorate the occasion. Something that had made him feel slightly uncomfortable, given the fact that he generally preferred to remain out of the spotlight, preferring that Robb or Theon enjoy the light and attention of the Starks and their children. Of course he had done his bit and in the end had thoroughly enjoyed the festivities, the many courses that had been served, the dancing that had taken place all of that had made him feel like he truly was part of the Stark family and not just a ward, not just someone who had been sent to foster for whatever reason his mother had seen fit to send him here. Lord and Lady Stark had always gone out of their way to make him feel welcome, always making sure that his needs were seen to and that he never wanted for anything, and for that he would always be grateful. That he was also very good friends with their children, in particularly Robb and Jon only made things all the more better. He, Robb, Jon and to a lesser extent Theon were a gang, they operated together and caused all kinds of chaos and havoc around Winterfell, something that Wallace knew either exasperated Lord and Lady Stark or amused them, as well as those who also lived in Winterfell. Wallace whilst not being exceptionally close to any of the other Stark children was nonetheless fond of them, Sansa with her dreams of the south and all that it held was endearing even if she could sometimes be a bit annoying with her callousness. Arya, Wallace was quite fond of Arya and her feistiness and her stubbornness they often joked about different things that no one else truly understood; that she shared his love of horse riding was just another bonus. As to the youngest two Stark children, Bran and Rickon, well Wallace did not truly know them though whenever they were in trouble he had the natural urge to play their big brother.

As to what he actually got up to during his time at Winterfell, when he was not at lessons with Robb and Jon, something that he found quite interesting, he was either in the training yard sparring with them, something he did not truly enjoy, or he was out riding. As a youngster he knew that Lord Eddard had often joked that Wallace must have been born on a horse due to the amount of time he spent riding his horse Chestnut. That was something that Wallace had taken pride in, that and the fact that out of everyone in Winterfell he was most likely the best rider, and perhaps even in the north. In fact he was quite sure he had beaten Domeric Bolton in a race the last time the heir to the Dreadfort had come to Winterfell for a visit. They were supposed to have a re match today but Domeric had not arrived yet from the Dreadfort and so Wallace had gone out riding, just to clear his mind. It felt nice, to be atop a horse, feeling the earth move underneath, to feel so free without a care in the world, and as such he continued riding on and on through the Wolfswood without a care in the world, though he made sure to remain within sight of Winterfell. He eventually stopped off at a little alcove he and Alys Karstark had found once last year where they had practiced at kissing.

It was within this alcove that Robb and Jon found him, he was sat contemplating a letter his mother had sent him a few days ago, when they entered the alcove. He looked up and seeing the worried expressions on their faces sat up and asked. “What’s wrong? Has something bad happened back in Winterfell?”

Robb shook his head and said. “No Wal, there has been a raven from the Dreadfort, from Lord Bolton. It seems Domeric won’t be able to come to Winterfell anytime soon, or at all.”

Wallace felt something in his throat constrict at that. “What do you mean by that Robb? What happened to Domeric?”

At that Robb was completely silent, seemingly unable to speak, and so it fell to Jon to speak the truth, and it would be a truth that would haunt Wallace for the rest of his life. “Domeric died from a sickness of the bowels, an ailment that hit him just after he went to meet his bastard brother Ramsay Snow. Lord Bolton apparently wrote in his letter that he believes his bastard responsible for the deed, and as such will be taking steps to remove him from the north.”

Wallace looked at Jon and then asked. “How do you know that Jon? Did you listen in?”

Jon shakes his head. “Theon heard it from one of the serving maids he bedded, who heard it from one of the servers who gave father his wine when he was speaking with Lady Catelyn. But surely you know what that means? Ramsay Snow will be made heir to the Dreadfort and Lyarra will be out of a place in that hell hole.”

Wallace knew that his friend had some sort of affection for the daughter of Roose Bolton but he had never thought it would be as strong as it seemed. Calmly he said. “We can’t jump to any conclusions Jon, it is not our place to do so. It is your lord father’s, and besides Lord Eddard knows to be wary of the Boltons. It is not like he is a green boy, like you or I are.”

His friend did not seem convinced but before he could say anymore, Robb spoke then. “Have you thought about what you’re going to say to your mother Wal? Will you be going back home or will you remain here?”

Wallace was silent for a long moment and then he said. “I do not want to leave just yet, but if I must go and see what is wrong at home then I must do that. I would not be a good son if I did not go back, nor would it be honourable to remain here whilst my mother and brothers dealt with such a strong blow. I must go and do my bit and find out what has happened, what has truly happened.”

His friends were silent for a moment before Robb said. “Well I am sure that whatever you decide to do, it will be the right decision. We are always here for you if you need anything Wal.”

Wallace nodded and then the three of them mounted their horses and rode back to Winterfell. After much internal debating, he decided to return to Iron Oaks for however long his family needed him to be there for. And so he left one summer day and arrived at Iron Oaks some four weeks after setting out from Winterfell. He was greeted by his brother Ser Morton, who had gotten married but a year ago to Randa Royce, his brother seemed older and thinner somehow, as if the weight of being the acting Lord of Iron Oaks was beginning to weigh heavily on him. The first thing Wallace asked once they were inside the castle was. “How is mother doing?”

His brother is silent for a moment and then he says simply. “Go and see for yourself, she’s awake now.”

Wallace nods and walks towards his mother’s chambers, Donnel walks out just as he gets to his mother’s chambers, his older brother looks at him and nods once before walking past him. Wallace walks into his mother’s room, and sees his mother lying on the bed, reading a book. He clears his throat and says. “Mother,” His mother looks up at him and then beckons for him to sit down in the chair next to her which he does. He takes her hand then and asks. “How are you feeling mother?”

His mother is silent for a long time and then when she replies her voice is very hoarse. “I have been better. But I am slowly healing now, and with the right amount of rest and sleep I should be up and ready in no time.”

Wallace nods and then asks. “What exactly happened mother? Morton’s letter was not truly all that detailed and it was hard for me to understand what had happened to cause your fall?”

His mother is silent for a long moment and then she says softly. “That is because I asked him to make it deliberately vague Wallace. It was not a fall, I am not so old that I cannot maintain my own balance whilst walking up or down those blasted stairs. No I was pushed, and I know exactly who by and why it was done. And I needed you back here so that I could tell you all and then you could go back and speak to Ned.”

“What do you mean mother? What happened?” Wallace asks fear beginning to lace his tone.

His mother sighs and pats his hand and says. “Calm down Wallace, I will tell you it all I must catch my breath first.” His mother takes a deep breath and then says. “There are spies here in Iron Oaks and the Vale who do not belong to the crown nor to the eunuch the master of whispers who claims to serve the realm but must be a Targaryen loyalist. No these spies belong to the master of coin Petyr Baelish. Tell me Wallace what do you know of Lord Baelish?”

Wallace had to strain hard to remember what he had been told of the man, eventually he said. “I know he comes from the Fingers, and that he fostered at Riverrun with Lady Catelyn and her siblings and that he once challenged Lord Eddard’s brother to a duel for Lady Catelyn’s hand. But what does he have to do with this?”

“Because these spies have confessed to trying to remove mother from this world on the orders of Lord Baelish.” Wallace’s brother Morton said standing in the doorway.

Wallace is stunned and then he asks. “But why would he do that? What have we ever done to him that would make him feel the need to do such a thing to us?”

His mother speaks then and she says. “Because we are related to the Starks, and no matter what Lord Baelish might appear to be, he is a dangerous man, and he wants to get back at the Starks for taking away his life from him, or what he perceives as his life. As such he will do whatever it takes to cause trouble between us and the north. We must warn Ned, and you must do that as soon as you return to Winterfell. Morton will tell you all you need to know about what we know and then you must return north as soon as possible and warn Ned before it is too late.”

“Why, what will happen otherwise mother?” Wallace asks concerned.

His mother looks at him and says simply. “War.”


	4. Black Mass

**Lord Eddard Stark**

It had been nine years since Ned had last seen his friend and king Robert Baratheon, the last time had been during the Greyjoy Rebellion when they had ridden together to put down Balon Greyjoy’s rebellion. Back then Robert had been big and muscular every maiden’s fantasy, and so Ned had been shocked to see just how fat and bloated his friend had become when he had ridden through the gates of Winterfell three weeks ago. His friend had become so fat that Ned had had trouble distinguishing him from the rest of the motley crew that had come riding in through the gates of Winterfell with him, it was only his big booming laugh and that famous Baratheon hair that had given it away at all.  As he and Cat had thought Robert had offered Ned the handship during the evening feast of his arrival in Winterfell and Ned had accepted the offer, much to the delight of the king and those present in the hall, also announced was the betrothal of his daughter Sansa to Prince Joffrey to eldest son and heir to the King. Ned was not entirely sure whether or not he was completely comfortable with either decision, after all the last time a Stark had gotten too involved with the south it had ended with his father and brother dying in King’s Landing and his sister dying in a bed of blood. But after they had received a raven from Cat’s sister informing them of her suspicions that the Lannisters were behind her late husband and Ned’s foster father Jon Arryn’s death, Cat had urged him to accept Robert’s offer and head south to investigate the matter further and to try and end the hold the Lannisters seemingly had on Robert. When Ned had brought up the letter that Wallace had brought back from his mother Anya a few moons ago that detailed her suspicions about King’s Landing Cat had replied. “As much as I respect and admire your cousin Ned, she does not know the true intricacies of court politics, Lysa and I have been speaking to one another through raven for many years. You are much better prepared than she thinks to handle court life. You have to go and find out what has happened Ned and our daughters will need someone there to help protect them.”

Ned had been sceptical but then had eventually been won over by that argument, especially when Maester Luwin had told him and Cat that Jon intended to take the black, Ned had been surprised by that decision after all Jon was only a boy still the same age as both Robb and Wallace and had his whole life ahead of him. And yet he knew what Cat would say before she had even say it and so he was not surprised when she encouraged him to let Jon take the black. “Jon knows what he wants my love, there will be nothing here for him with you in the south. He does not need to take the black just now but at least pay heed to his concerns.” And so Ned had relented and agreed to that though he had spoken to Jon and told him he need not take the Black just now, though just like Benjen had fourteen years ago his son who was not his son had been adamant that this was what he wanted to do and what he felt he needed to do.  Then there was the whole matter of the direwolves that they had found after the execution of the deserter from the Night’s Watch. The deserter had been raving mad talking about White Walkers and all kinds of things that Old Nan had told him and his siblings and his children when they were all still children to frighten them, and yet finding that direwolf and her pups had been a very strange matter. There had been no direwolves south of the wall since the days of King Jaehaerys I, when dragons still roamed the earth and now there were seven direwolves, all of which belonged to his children and to his cousin Wallace.  The children had been ecstatic to find them, even more so when Ned had allowed them to keep them and had promptly gone about naming them. Robb had named his Grey Wind, Sansa had given hers the name Lady, Arya his little spitfire of a daughter had named hers Nymeria, and Rickon had given his the name Shaggydog, whilst Jon had named his Ghost. Bran had not known what to name his direwolf and Wallace had named his Thunder for the streak of yellow that went across his direwolf pup’s fur.

Thinking about his second son Bran, Ned could not help but feel sorrow and pain, his son had fallen from the broken tower where he had been climbing and had not woken up from his fall. Maester Luwin had done all he could to make sure that Bran survived and had said that the worst of whatever it was that was ailing him was over, and that it was up to the gods and to Bran now as to whether he survived. Bran’s fall had torn their family apart, Cat spent her days and nights beside Bran’s bedside refusing to leave his side for even an instant, Robb and Jon had grown moody pacing the yard and getting into all kinds of trouble, Arya disappeared to gods alone knew where with Wallace for company and Rickon little Rickon knew not what was happening, and Sansa, well she seemed too caught up in her betrothal to worry not that he was angry about that. He had asked Robert for some time to spend with his family and Robert had granted it, but his friend had never been a very patient man, and now he was demanding that they leave as soon as possible and so Ned had come to say his goodbyes to his son and his wife, having already said his goodbyes to Robb, Wallace and Rickon. He had just gotten to the doorway when he heard Cat say in a voice laced with venom. “I prayed you know, gods know how I prayed for his survival, and yet he might not live and you still live. It should have been you. It should have been you.” And as Ned pushed open the door he saw Jon standing there looking ashen faced and angry, he turned round looked at Ned and then stormed out of the room. When Cat saw him she wiped her eyes and said. “Have you come to say goodbye as well then my love? Even though I have begged and begged you to stay?”

Ned sighed then and walked forward coming to stand beside where his wife was sat. “I have to go Cat. You know I do, I gave Robert my word that I would go south and serve as his hand. I intend to keep that promise, and I intend to find out what happened to Jon Arryn and how his death could be related to Bran’s fall. You know this Cat.”

His wife merely looked at him and said. “All I know is that men use their word to get away from things that they do not wish to face. They use their honour as a shield to remove themselves from fault. You do not have to go south Ned, you do not have to. You are Robert’s best friend, he might rage at you and he might yell, but in the end he would forget and forgive and move on. The south is not safe for you or for our girls Ned. Lysa’s letter and Bran’s fall are all proof of this, I was a fool not to see it sooner. You can’t go south Ned, you can’t.”

Ned sighed then and said. “If there is something happening in the south then I have to go south Cat. It is my duty as Robert’s friend and his bannerman, to go south and find out what it is or who it is that is causing him trouble. And I must warn him as well, he is my friend as well as my king Cat, and I am honour bound to help, I swore an oath to always help him Cat, I must go.”

“And what of the vows and oaths you swore to me and our children? What of the protection and love and care you swore to always give us? How can you do that if you are all the way in the south Ned? They are called vipers for a reason my love. Please do not go.” His wife pleaded.

Ned sighed and said. “You know I must Cat. I do not want to go, I have to go. And I will be back soon for a visit as well my love. I will not forget you or our children.”

His wife rubs a tear from her and says. “Well then, if that is the case I bid you farewell my lord. I wish you good tidings on your journey, and I hope you find whatever answers it is that you are looking for.”

Ned recognises the dismissal and merely kisses his wife on the head and then kisses Bran on the cheek and walks out of the room. He walks towards Wallace’s chambers, stopping before the door to hear his cousin and his daughter talking about something or the other, he smiles briefly and stands back when the door opens. “Arya, go back inside I have something I need to tell both of you.” His daughter nods and then walks back in. Ned walks into the room and says in his most lordly voice. “I have decided that you shall remain here in Winterfell Arya, your brothers and your mother will need your company. Sansa will have her friends in Jeyne Poole and Beth Cassel with her.” His daughter hugs him then and then he says. “I shall also make arrangements for you to travel to Iron Oaks at some point with Wallace so that you can meet his family.”

“Why father?” Arya asks.

Ned looks at his daughter and then at Wallace and he prays he is making the right decision. “Because I intend to have the two of you betrothed to one another soon.”


	5. No PLace I'd Rather Be

**Arya Stark**

Winterfell was a lot quieter without her father or sister as well as the countless other people who had gone south with them to serve as part of her father’s household in the capital.  At first Arya had thought she would be heading down south with her father and sister, and she had dreaded it, she disliked the Lannisters, especially that little twit Joffrey, she did not know exactly what it was but there was something about that family that just seemed wrong and off putting. Of course her sister was completely entranced by the whole damned family, Sansa with her head full of songs and dreams, she’d do well in the south Arya knew, and she knew her father and mother knew that as well. That was one of the reasons why she was happy to be still in the north; she didn’t want to have to head south to change who she was to fit some sort of southern ideal that would just be completely against who she was and what she believed in. As to the main reason why she had remained in Winterfell, her betrothal to Wallace, Arya quite liked the idea of eventually marrying her friend, not only because it kept her away from any potential match to a southern lack wit who would try and change who she was for some sort of stupid idea, but also because if she was being quite honest with herself she did quite like Wallace, in more than just a sisterly way, she had begun seeing him in a new light after their betrothal had been formally announced. Wallace was kind, gentle and smart, and he was also one of only two people, the other being Jon who did not talk down to her or patronise her, and for that she would always be grateful towards him.

Of course with her father away in the south and her mother having been not herself after Bran’s fall it had fallen down to Robb to act the part of Lord of Winterfell, and so her oldest brother had gone about overseeing all the roles that would traditionally have been seen to by their mother. As such this had meant that Arya and her siblings rarely saw their oldest brother apart from at meal times or whenever he would venture out into the practice yard to train with Wallace and Theon. Mother herself only stirred from her slumber after the attack on Bran, where some cutthroat had tried to kill Bran only to be killed by his unnamed direwolf, and as such mother had gone off to King’s Landing for some reason or the other, leaving Arya as the lady in Winterfell. She had been quite annoyed about that until Wallace had explained to her why her mother had gone off to the south, it seemed that the cutthroat might have been sent to silence Bran from whatever he had seen the day that he had fallen, and that it might have something to do with the Lannisters. That news had only made her feel more uneasy about her father and sister and now her mother being in King’s Landing, something that was made worse when news reached them of her mother abducting Tyrion Lannister and taking him to places unknown and the attack on their father and his men by the Kingslayer and company. Her father was grievously wounded according to a raven from Vayon Poole and there had been talk amongst Robb, Theon and Wallace as to what should be done in response to this.

Arya was not privy to all of the details for though she and Wallace were betrothed she was still only a girl of nine and as such many did not truly trust her with such sensitive information. Though Wallace often told her most of what was discussed between him and Robb, when they went horse riding in the afternoons. And as such that was what they were doing, riding through the Wolfswood and laughing freely and gaily, no concerns in the world apart from simply riding through the Wolfswood. They stopped off at the coven that Wallace had showed her some days ago and dismounted, whilst Wallace saw to their horses, Arya went of exploring, taking Needle with her. By the time she had returned with some trophies, the horses were tethered and were drinking from the stream near the coven. Wallace was sat on a rock with his eyes partly closed. His voice was soft when he asked. “Now why don’t you tell me what it is you are dying to ask Arya.”

Arya was silent for a moment and asked. “How did you know I wanted to ask you something Wallace?”

Her betrothed smiled and said. “You always tilt your head to the side when you’re about to ask a question Arya. It’s something both you and Sansa share. Now tell me what do you want to know, and I shall see if it is something I know and is safe for you to know as well.”

“Will you be marching to war?” She asked in a rush. “Everyone says that Robb means to call the banners and march southward to avenge Jory and all the others that were killed by the Kingslayer and to take father back north and bring him home.”

Wallace sighed and said. “I suppose you’ll find out eventually. Theon and some others are arguing for Robb to call the banners and march south. Not to King’s Landing but to the Westerlands. They argue that what was done to your father was completely unjust and that blood must pay for blood. And whilst I agree that what was done to Lord Eddard and to Jory and the others was not just, it is not our place to declare war on anyone. It is the king’s right to pass judgement on the crimes committed by the Kingslayer and his men.”

Arya was silent and then asked.”But what if the king does nothing Wallace? Then what? We both saw how fat and useless he had become when he was here. He doesn’t seem like the man in father’s stories. Who’s to say that he won’t just brush it all away and keep drinking like he did at Winterfell?”

Wallace sighed and said. “Then I guess we shall just have to wait and see Arya, we shall just have to wait and see.”


	6. Eye In The South

**Sansa Stark**

As a little girl growing up in the north, Sansa had always dreamed of seeing the south, the songs and stories she had so loved had painted the south as this mystical land, a beautiful place where the songs and stories she loved were the daily reality and the people were all so chivalrous and charming. She had been enraptured by those songs and stories from an early age, and as such when she had learn that the King and his family were coming to Winterfell to name her father Hand, she had prayed to the gods both old and new that her father would accept, so that she could get to experience the dream she had been having since she could remember. And when it was announced that not only would she be going south with her father, she would also be betrothed to Prince Joffrey the heir to the throne, she had felt all kinds of happiness. Joffrey had seemed so gallant and charming, that she could not but want to make him happy, and to be the best possible wife to him that she could be. Whilst the king had turned out to be a disappointment compared to the stories that her father had told her and her siblings as a child, the Queen and the royal children were all delightful. Of course things had been made slightly better by the fact that her father had decided to leave Arya in Winterfell, stating that she needed to know her betrothed Wallace, who had grown up with them all at Winterfell. Whilst Wallace was a nice boy Sansa could not help think that her sister could have done better for herself, and that if their mother had not been so sick with grief over Bran’s fall she too would have argued the same. But that was neither here nor there now, the journey south had been wonderful, Joffrey had been charming as had the queen, and Sansa had fallen in love with the south just as she had always thought she would.

And then when they had gotten to King’s Landing, things had begun changing. Her father spent all of his time in court or with the council and would often come back to the Tower of the Hand tired and disgruntled. Sansa herself was left to play and do things with Jeyne Poole and Beth Cassel, and whilst she loved both of her friends dearly she did sorely miss Arya and her fieriness something that surprised her. Joffrey of course was still his charming and gallant self, though she now knew that was all an act. But before it all had happened, her father had come and told her that they were to be returning back to Winterfell with all haste, and then Jaime Lannister had crippled his leg, and that had been stopped and then once he was better and the king was away hunting, another set of plans had been made, and Sansa had gone and told Queen Cersei what her father planned on doing, for she had not wanted to leave her gallant prince and her life in the capital behind, only to return to the cold and barren north. When she thought back on that action, she could not but help feeling all kinds of guilt, it was because of that action that her father had been arrested and it was because of that action that so many people from Winterfell who had come south with them were dead.

Following her father’s arrest, Sansa had come to court to beg mercy from her gallant prince, now her king, and he had promised that he would give her father justice, and she had been so very happy because of that. Only Joffrey’s view of justice was quite different to her own view of justice, instead of allowing her father to live, Joffrey had taken her father’s head and then made her see it on the spike where it had been placed. Sansa knew she was a prisoner now, that her life was being used as a tool for bargaining against Robb who had called his banners when father had been arrested. Sansa had learnt from those ladies who liked to gossip, that her brother had smashed Jaime Lannister’s host first at the Whispering Wood and then at the Battle of the Camps thus freeing Riverrun from the Lannister siege. That news had later been confirmed when Joffrey had had her beaten by two knights of the Kingsguard, as punishment for her brother’s success.

Now as she walked towards the throne room escorted by Ser Arys Oakheart one of the nicer of Joffrey’s Kingsguard, she wondered what she was about to be punished for now. Ser Arys had the doors opened for her and the herald announced her. The whole room went quiet as she entered and walked stopping before the steps of the throne. “You wished to see me Your Grace?” Sansa asked.

Joffrey was sat on the throne looking down at her with malice in his eyes, so much so that Sansa began worrying what it was that was going to happen to her. “Yes, yes I did. Do you know what your traitor of a brother has done?” Sansa shook her head, and Joffrey smiled more maliciously at that and said. “Well then, Lancel tell Lady Sansa what her traitor of a brother did.”

Lancel Lannister, who Sansa had once thought of as nice and kind looked at her as if she was no better than a beggar on the streets of King’s Landing as he spoke. “The traitor Robb Stark and his savage northmen, have gone raiding in the Westerlands and to allow themselves to go around harming the innocent people of the Westerlands, they fell on the defenceless camp of Ser Stafford Lannister. But that is not all they did, they turned themselves into wolves and other foul creatures and began savaging Ser Stafford and his men like they were no better than common animals. Such is the treason and the bad blood in northerners.”

Sansa looked at Joffrey and then at Lancel, and then said in as brave a voice as she could muster. “Your Grace, whatever my traitor of a brother has done, I had no part in it and I do not agree with nor believe in his treasons and whatever reasons he is giving for them.”

Joffrey looked at her and said. “It is often said that if one family member is a traitor than the rest of the family are traitors as well. And you now have two members of your family who have proven to be traitors. Your father and now your brother. What is there to say that you too will not end up being a traitor?”

“Please Your Grace,” Sansa began begging. “Please I will never betray you nor commit any treason. I love you with all of my heart.”

Joffrey laughed then and said. “Such words will not spare you, the true fate of a traitor. Ser Meryn show Sansa what it means to be a traitor. But spare her face.”

And just like that Sansa felt the first blow to her stomach that took the wind from her, and then the second blow that had her on her knees, and then the third blow which had her on the floor. “Strip her bare, let the whole world know her shame.” Joffrey snarled.

She was lifted up and she could feel Meryn Trant about to begin removing the clothes from her body when a voice said. “Enough Your Grace, enough has been done. Surely Sansa Stark has learnt her lesson?”

Sansa turned to see Lord Baelish standing there looking at the king, a strange look in his face. Joffrey turned his face towards Baelish and said. “But she is a traitor, she has not learnt the full meaning of loyalty and neither has her brother.”

Sansa for a brief moment thought that Lord Baelish would speak up in her defence, but instead all he said was. “There are other ways in which Lady Sansa can be taught a lesson, instead of having her be abused Your Grace.”

Joffrey was silent for a moment and then he smiled maliciously once more and said. “Very well then, Ser Meryn leave Sansa , Dog take her back to her rooms and tell her to await my coming. This should be much more fun.”

Sansa closed her eyes and fought hard to fight back tears, Robb could not come quick enough to her rescue.


	7. Once More Round The Sun

**Wallace Waynwood**

It seemed so long ago now that he and Arya had returned to Ironoaks in order to allow Arya to meet his mother and brothers. Back then, peace had reigned throughout Westeros and Robert Baratheon had sat the throne. The visit had been made due to the fact that he and Arya were betrothed and so Wallace had thought it only prudent that she get to meet his family before their marriage, seeing as he already knew hers. And he had been so very glad that he had decided to take her with him to Ironoaks, for their visit had given his family the chance to meet Arya and get to know her a bit better compared to the way he had described her in his letters to them. His mother and brothers all thought that Arya was a tad wild, but they did not condescend her for that wildness and instead seemed to find it endearing, and his mother had even told him that he would be a very lucky man when he and Arya were wed, for she was sure to be a great beauty and a very smart woman when she matured. Arya herself seemed to have enjoyed the visit to Ironoaks, having found it a nice change of pace from Winterfell which had become somewhat suffocating for the both of them following Bran’s fall and Lord Eddard’s departure. Arya had found his mother and brothers to be nice people though she was a little creeped out by his mother’s ward Harrold Hardying otherwise known as Harry the Heir, and as such Wallace had made a note to never ever leave her in his company when they returned.

And when they had returned from the Vale, Robb had called the banners, for Lord Eddard had been arrested by the new king Joffrey Baratheon, under accusations of treason. Such accusations that Wallace and everyone else in the north did not believe, and such things needed to be answered, on top of that was the fact that Riverrun had been under siege, in response Wallace supposed to Lady Catelyn’s abduction of Lord Tyrion Lannister. As such there had been a pressing need for action to be taken, and so once those lords closest to Winterfell had arrived they had marched for Moat Cailin and from there once Manderly men had joined them as well as Lady Catelyn and her famous uncle the Blackfish, they had marched at quick pace. In order to actually cross into the Riverlands, a betrothal had had to be made, Robb had been betrothed to one of Walder Frey’s daughters and had taken one of his son’s as a squire, and two of the old man’s sons had been sent to foster at Winterfell. And with that done they had marched as quickly as possible for Riverrun, and it was in the Whispering Wood outside the Tully’s ancient seat that Wallace had had his first taste of battle. The fighting had been brutal, and Wallace was still haunted by the sight of so many bodies sprawled on the floor, bodies that he had put there with his sword or his spear he was not entirely sure which weapon he had used. They had lost many good men, Daryn Hornwood, and the Karstark brothers amongst them, but they had captured Jaime Lannister, and from him they had learnt some of the weaknesses of the remaining Lannister soldiers camps, and managed to break the Lannister host at the camps.  It was after the battle of the camps that news of Lord Eddard’s execution reached them, and the feelings of solidarity and victory disappeared into ones of grief. Wallace had never known his own father, Lord Jasper had died during the rebellion and so Wallace had grown up surrounded by women before coming to Winterfell, all he knew about being a man he had learnt from Lord Eddard, and so to say he missed the man was an understatement.

That had of course prompted all those lords who had fought alongside Robb be they from the north or the Riverlands to bend the knee to him and name him King of the North and Trident, in order to separate themselves from the Iron Throne and those who would see the north and the riverlands burn for others crimes. And Robb had then decided to pay the Lannisters back in kind for the damage done to the Riverlands, and had left to go raiding in the Westerlands, leaving Wallace and Lord Edmure to hold the riverlands in his absence. So far there had been little to no actual action so to speak, the Lannister soldiers who had been burning through the riverlands were either dead or caught, killed by the riverlords who were attacking the Lannisters with a vengeance, of course the main threat was still in Harrenhal. Tywin Lannister remained seated there waiting for his chance to strike as his home burned and his strength thinned out.  Of course such times of peace in the riverlands were due to be short lived and so Wallace wanted to be as prepared as possible and so he had called for a war council to be held in Edmure’s solar, in attendance were Wallace himself, Lord Edmure, Lady Catelyn who looked red eyed from the tears she had shed from news from Winterfell, and Maester Vyman and Lord Jason Mallister who had come down from Seagard. “I thank you all for coming now.” Wallace began. “We are facing an interesting time, His Grace has managed to take Ashemark and the Crag. Though he was faced with a wound last we heard. With Renly Baratheon dead the forces of the Reach undecided in their allegiance we must decide what move we in the riverlands must take.”

Edmure Tully, the acting Lord of Riverrun in his father’s illness spoke then his voice gruff. “Well the Lannister forces sit in Harrenhal draining away supplies from the area around the God’s Eye. Lords Bracken and Blackwood have reported that the last of the Lannister brigands that were raiding their lands have been dealt with. There is also the issue of House Darry and its lands, Lyman Darry is dead as is his father. We need to lead Tywin Lannister out of Harrenhal and put an end to the fighting here once and for all.”

Wallace nodded and said. “Aye that would be most helpful for us, but of course the man likely wishes to tie us down here, or even worse force us to march for Harrenhal, which could end up breaking our own forces.”

“Would your mother not send men to aid the campaign here my lord?” Riverrun’s maester Vyman.

Wallace sighed and said. “I believe she will, but the question is how will they come to our aid? We cannot expect them to march through the Green Fork without Tywin Lannister knowing about it, and when he does find out what is there to say that he won’t simply send the Mountain out to attack that force of men? We need to preserve our strength not waste on a battle that might mean nothing.”

Edmure spoke then and said. “We cannot spend the rest of our time here sat idly by waiting for Tywin Lannister to make a move Wallace. That man has more patience than any other man in Westeros that is what my father always used to say. If we want his grace to do well in this war we need to break Tywin Lannister, and with Robb in the Westerlands, soon enough the man will need to move forward, and that I think is the time when we can finally take him out for good.”

Lord Mallister spoke then his voice deep. “What Lord Edmure is suggesting sounds reasonable. Lord Tywin is too much of a cautious person to actively move from Harrenhal. Whilst there are risks in doing this, there are greater risks in simply allowing him to stay at Harrenhal. Eventually he will move and he likely will do so with most of his strength, to a place where we shall be cut off from aid. I would recommend calling your banners soon Lord Edmure, for soon there will be a fight one way or another.”

Wallace nodded at that and said. “So we are agreed then, Lord Edmure shall call his banners and we shall ready for war? Now as to what has happened in Winterfell with Bran and Rickon that is something that most definitely needs to be discussed. With their deaths, Sansa and Arya are Robb’s heirs and something must be done to make sure they are both safe and secure. Has there been any word as to where Arya is?”

“No my lord, though it seems as though Theon Greyjoy did his best to find her, for we know that though both Lord Brandon and Rickon were killed, she was not present when the final killings took place.” Maester Vyman said.

Lady Catelyn speaks then her voice hoarse. “She would have gone north to the mountain clans. Her grandmother is a First Flint, and they will shelter her through everything. This reminds me, we must discuss whether or not this betrothal between her and yourself is still a good idea Wallace.”

Wallace sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “This betrothal should remain standing my lady. I am not sure how many times I must say this, both myself and Arya are happy with the arrangement, and as such I see no reason why it must change.”

Lady Catelyn gave him a sharp look and said. “The Tyrells are now free for an opening in an alliance, Stannis Baratheon is moving quickly towards King’s Landing. We are sore need to allies if we want to have any hope of winning this war. If Arya were free to marry, we could suggest a betrothal to Willas Tyrell or to one of the houses in the Riverlands in order to make the area more secure. Until we have Sansa back safe and sound, Arya is the way in which we can make sure that all is safe and secure for Robb.”

“But you do already have an alliance with a strong house my lady. Arya’s betrothal to me means that House Waynwood is committed to Robb’s cause no matter what, and they can bring more men from the Vale with them no matter what your sister might think in the Eyrie. Ending our betrothal would cause nothing but rumours to circulate and right now that is not what should be happening. Besides surely it is better for Arya to wed someone who knows her and understands her rather than someone who will want her to change who she is no matter what is actually best for her.” Wallace replies.

Lady Catelyn looks at him sharply and says in a biting tone. “That is because you are thinking of your own personal interests, not of those for Robb and his kingdom. Arya will do what she is told and what is best for her people as a princess of the north.”

Wallace sighs and says. “I cannot argue this point with you anymore my lady. At the end of the day it is Robb’s decision and so we shall have to wait for him to return before we can make any move.”

Lady Catelyn replies when there is a knock on the door and a page boy enters panting holding a letter in his hand. “My lords, my lady, there was a raven from Ser Denys, Lord Tywin has moved his men from Harrenhal and is marching up towards the Stoney Sept.”


	8. Caledonia

**Lord Tywin Lannister**

The war had been waging for nearly a year now, the Stark boy had done better than anyone had expected, what with his victories over Jaime and his men at the Whispering Wood and the Battle of the Camps and his victory over that fool Stafford at Oxcross. The boy was wreaking havoc in the Westerlands, and though Tywin had not wanted to leave King’s Landing without a suitable barrier, he had had to move from Harrenhal, he could not leave his home undefended he would not allow what had happened to Winterfell to happen to the Rock. And so he had called his men together and marched from Harrenhal towards the entrance to the Westerlands, and it was there that they had met resistance from the Tullys. Edmure Tully was still green as grass but he seemed to have had some common sense in his head after the defeat Jaime had given him earlier in the war, and so it was that at the northern and southern entrances to Riverrun they came up across some stiff defence. Tywin sent out men to probe these defences to see if they could find any weak spots, and as the battle had raged, his men had come back with reports. There were scorpions and other defences being used in the woods around Riverrun and many men were dying in the fords, brought down by their armour and by their own foolishness, and yet when Kevan asked him if he wanted to sound the retreat he had said no, there was one last test he had wanted to give the trout, and so Ser Gregor Clegane had marched off to battle. Clegane had managed to gain the West Bank near the Stone Mill but suffered terrible losses doing so, and eventually when a rider came from the Tyrell camp saying that the Tyrells were close at hand, Tywin ordered a retreat. For three days the battle had raged and at the end of it all it had ended up being quite an expensive battle, but one that had allowed them to learn of two things.

The first being that following Renly Baratheon’s death, his son Tyrion had sent Lord Baelish out to treat with the Tyrells, and using Mace Tyrell’s desire to see his daughter as queen to their advantage had roped in the Tyrell support, by promising Joffrey’s hand to the Tyrell girl. A move that Tywin approved of, for though the Tyrells were greedy upstarts they could bring the most amount of men of any of the seven kingdoms to the field and as such that was what they had done. Tywin had met with Randyll Tarly and Ser Garlan Tyrell and together they had moved their forces from the fords down close towards the Blackwater Rush, where they were currently camped. There had been a few early skirmishes between their scouts and those of Stannis Baratheon, but none Stannis’s scouts had survived and so the man would be going into King’s Landing blind. Of course as well as the early skirmishes with Stannis’s scouts, on the march down towards King’s Landing, Tywin had received reports from King’s Landing from both Tyrion and Cersei. Tyrion’s reports showed what effort his son was making to defend the city from Stannis Baratheon, the use of wildfire being particularly ingenious, of course whilst Tywin did not really like his son nor even want to admit that the dwarf was his son, there were times, this being one of them where he had to grudgingly admit that the man was smart enough to do what needed to be done. Whilst he found Cersei’s letters and reports to be most tedious, as she reported on the various things that Tyrion had been doing, making betrothals with the Dornish a smart move, making overtures to the Vale another smart move, and the fact that the woman complained that her brother was taking away from her power was something that Tywin found most tedious, his daughter always had known how to complain and not how to act.

At the sounding of the horn on the outskirts of the river, Tywin shakes his head and mounts his horse, battle is to begin now and at the end of this either they will win and Stannis will be dead, or Stannis will sit in King’s Landing and they shall all be dead. One way or another Tywin intends to defeat Stannis Baratheon, and then turn his attention towards the wolf pup. He spurs his horse on and leading the right tonight, he marches at a quick pace, and soon enough they come across a small band of Stannis’s forces that seem bedraggled and broken, the wildfire glittering from the river, as the screams of men echo in the air. Tywin raises his sword and the battle for the right bank of the river begins. Tywin had never been one to get directly involved in battles, he had done during the Stepstones and during the Reyne Rebellion but after that not so much, now though he leads the charge and as he feels his sword cutting through men both mounted and on foot, a smile threatens to break out on his face, thankfully he is wearing his lion’s helm so they will not be able to see the smile. The battle continues and Tywin is in the thick of it all, hacking and slashing and hacking and slashing and hacking and slashing.

The men on the right bank broken; Tywin leads his men through the thicket of branches and wood, and joins forces with the left of their host commanded by Mace Tyrell. Stannis’s men are coming close to breaking now, and this charge is the thing that ends them for good, Tywin swings his sword left, right and centre, cutting them down one by one blood fills the ground, blood covers his sword and his armour and bodies begin to pile up around them. Eventually the left of Stannis’s host is broken and gone, and the gates to the city are open, any stragglers of Stannis’s host are destroyed during these last few moments of battle, until either the men wearing Stannis’s flaming heart banner have surrendered or they are dead. Tywin sends his brother and Ser Addam Marbrand to round up the stragglers and bring them into the camp for the night outside the city, the people are all inside their homes hiding from the battle that had raged for many an hour by the look of it, the sun is just beginning to rise when the clear up is finished, and once the sun has risen properly Tywin has bathed and changed into a new suit of armour, and is told that the King would like to see him in the throne room, and so he rides into the Red Keep and the throne room for the first time in sixteen years, and it is there that the cheers of the lords and ladies in attendance hit him and the look of happiness and joy from Cersei and from Joffrey are present as well.  His horse takes a shit on the floor of the throne room, ruining slightly the moment of glory, but nonetheless he dismounts and kneels at the foot of the throne. “Your Grace,” he says his voice booming in the room. “The city is yours. And I do so humbly accept the offer to serve as your hand and rule in your name until Your Grace does come of age.”

“You are most welcome here Grandfather,” Joffrey says his voice rising in volume. “And for your service in beating the traitor Stannis Baratheon, I do name you saviour of the city. Rise now and let us continue on with court.”

After that various other proclamations are made and the confirmation of Joffrey’s betrothal to Margaery Tyrell is made by the High Septon as is the setting aside of his betrothal to the Stark girl. All in all the ceremony used to celebrate everything that has happened in defending the city lasts for nearly the whole day, but once it ends, Tywin has another bath in the Tower of the Hand, and then he calls for a council meeting. The council members are new additions though some are old hats at King’s Landing politics, Cersei is present as Queen Regent though Tywin believes the boy should be here as well, Pycelle is present as Grand Maester an old man but useful, Kevan is present as master of laws, Mace Tyrell present as master of ships, Varys the eunuch a man Tywin means to keep a close eye on is present as master of whispers, and then there are Paxter Redwyne and Mathis Rowan present as advisors. Once they are all seated Tywin speaks. “Thank you all for coming. It has been a long and tiring few days, but Stannis Baratheon has been beaten and thrown back to Dragonstone. That he survived is unfortunate, but his strength will have dwindled down to very, very little. And as such once the dust has settled here, we shall need to sent a fleet and men to deal with him before he has the chance to move from that barren rock he calls home. Now what news is there from the riverlands?”

Varys speaks then his voice silky. “Roose Bolton holds Harrenhal now my lords, it appears Vargo Hoat turned his cloak the minute your lordship left the castle. Armory Lorch was given to the bears as entertainment for the Brave Companions and the northern prisoners that were held there have all been freed. It does appear as if Roose Bolton is preparing to link his forces up with Wallace Waynwood’s  as well though for what purpose my little birds are not sure.”

“Has that old crone Anya Waynwood finally developed a backbone then and sent her son some men then?” Cersei asked.

Tywin sighed at his daughter’s foolishness. “That old crone as you so put it Cersei, could muster around 3,000 men and if she so chose she could get half of the Vale to rally to her son’s cause and therefore to the Stark boy’s cause. As it is, with Roose Bolton now holding Harrenhal and everything from there till the Green Fork there will be nothing that could stop her from doing just that. Apart from Lord Baelish. Now when will you be able to depart for the Eyrie Lord Baelish?”

Lord Petyr Baelish the master of coin was an unknown quantity to Tywin but he had decided to know all he could about the man before trusting him. The man gave a sly smile and said. “I should be able to leave fairly soon my lord hand. Now that I am Lord of Harrenhal and Lord Paramount of the Trident, whether the Vale lords accept me or not will be immaterial. Lysa shall see the sense in marrying me, in order to protect her little boy from the vultures that circle her in the Vale. And with our marriage I can ensure that King Joffrey will face no threat from the Vale whatsoever.”

Tywin nodded and then turned his attention to Cersei. “Following the Blackwater, how many ships do we have left standing?”

His daughter is silent for a long moment, and eventually it is Mace Tyrell who speaks. “My lord, I had a chance to look at the inventories before coming to the meeting today, and as of now we have some twenty ships left, that were either not employed during the wildfire scheme or were not damaged due to it. They are mainly cogs and merchant galleys. The bulk of the royal war galleys were destroyed during the battle on the river.”

Tywin nods and then says. “Very well, I want an order put out for more war galleys to be built. We cannot be unprepared for another naval battle again. In the meanwhile, Lord Redwyne how quickly will your fleet be able to leave the arbor and come towards King’s Landing?”

Lord Paxter Redwyne is a big balding man but one who seems more competent than his cousin. “Well seeing as we now hold the south and west, I should say about three weeks I can send word to my brother Desmond and from there we can move to Dragonstone.”

“Excellent,” Tywin replies.”Now what news of Robb Stark’s campaign in the Westerlands?”

Varys speaks then. “The boy has left the Crag with a bride, and without many of the Frey soldiers he entered the Westerlands with.”

Tywin nods and says. “We shall talk on this further at a later date, but for now let us adjourn.” And so Robb Stark has fallen prey to the folly of youth, this could be very useful for them, very useful indeed. 


	9. Wings Of A Butterfly

**King Robb I Stark**

The war, gods the war seemed to be overwhelming him, taking up every minute he was awake and even those moments where he was asleep. All he could think of was battle plans and tactics and strategy, and if there was anything that he could have done differently during the various battles that could have reduced the number of casualties he had suffered during them. It was beginning to consume him and make him feel more and more anxious as the days went by, the war had started off so well, with victories at the Whispering Wood and the Camps, defeating and capturing Jaime Lannister and many others as well as freeing Riverrun from the Lannister siege. Then his father had been killed and he had been declared king, and whilst the riverlands continued to burn, he had set his eyes westwards, towards burning Tywin Lannister’s home and sparing his own people some of what had happened, and so he had sent Theon back home against the advice of his mother and Wallace, and he had marched west. They had beaten Stafford Lannister at Oxcross, and then had taken Ashemark and the Crag. And at the Crag that was where Robb’s world had quickly gone south, he had taken an injury and had only just been nursed back to recovery, when the Greatjon had broken the news of the fall of Winterfell and the deaths of Bran and Rickon to him. Arya was not found amongst the bodies and yet none knew where she was, Robb had been distraught he had caused his two little brothers to die by sending Theon back to the Iron Islands, and Jeyne had given him comfort the only way two people their age knew how to, and afterwards he had come to his sense and realised what he had done. He had felt so ashamed and distraught at the same time that he had wed her even though he knew what it would cost him.

The Freys had been deeply angered by his wedding to Jeyne and so they had left the Westerlands after the taking of the Crag, marching back through the plains and all of the other terrain of the Westerlands, stopping by Riverrun along the way to pick up the rest of their relatives and marching straight back to the Twins. Robb had felt guilty about what his marriage to Jeyne had done to the Freys, and yet he could not make it any different, he had been raised to view honour as the top priority, and as such when it had come to it, he had had a choice, either let Jeyne remain a soiled woman, and perhaps bare a bastard, and stick to wedding a Frey girl, someone he had never met before and perhaps might never like, or he could wed Jeyne and make sure any child they had was legitimate and that they actually got to know each other a bit better following their brief love affair, and risk losing the Freys. To him at the time marrying Jeyne had seemed the more honourable course, and so he had gone through with it. Of course he still cared deeply for Jeyne and he thought that he might even love her and yet, after learning of the Battle of the Blackwater and the Battle of the Fords where his uncle had foiled his plans, he had begun questioning the wisdom of his actions, the Freys had brought some 3,000 men to his cause whilst the Westerlings brought only some 50 men with them, less than half of those being knights. It was a very difficult situation, one that was made even more pressing by what he was about to learn. He had returned from the Westerlands some two days ago and as such had introduced Jeyne to his bannermen and to his mother and future goodbrother and as such that had been all that they had done, allowing for there to be time for rest and grieving. Now though that period was over and Robb had called a council of his closest advisors. His mother, his uncle Edmure, The Blackfish and Wallace were all present.  They all looked tired and haggard and yet Robb had to speak. “I will not sugar coat it, our situation at present could not be direr. With Stannis Baratheon defeated at the Blackwater and the Tyrells and the Lannisters joined together in an alliance, we shall need a very large miracle to emerge victorious from this war. Would that you had let Tywin Lannister pass through when he attacked as I had asked of you uncle, perhaps we would not be in this position now.”

His uncle stuttered there and said. “I did as I was asked, I held Riverrun and the Riverlands. Surely you could not have expected me to allow Tywin Lannister to just pass through my lands without a care in the world? What would my own lords have thought of me if I had allowed him that free reign?”

Robb felt his anger rising then and said. “They would have thought you were doing your job for your king. Why do you think we spent so long in the Westerlands after Oxcross? Bringing Tywin Lannister away from Harrenhal and from King’s Landing was supposed to be the blow that won us this particular battle and allowed us to return north to deal with the Ironborn. But your foolish sense of chivalry has meant that now we are more likely to be buried alive here.”

The Blackfish spoke then his voice hard “We were all horsed, The Lannister host was mainly foot. We planned to run Lord Tywin a merry chase up and down the coast, then slip behind him to take up a strong defensive position athwart the gold road, at a place my scouts had found where the ground would have been greatly in our favour. If he had come at us there, he would have paid a grievous price. But if he did not attack, he would have been trapped in the west, a thousand leagues from where he needed to be. All the while we would have lived off his land, instead of him living off ours.”

Edmure is silent for a long moment before he says. “I never meant ... never, Robb, you must let me make amends. I will lead the van in the next battle!

Robb snorts then and says. “The next battle? Nuncle the next battle is likely to be the one where either we all die or the one where the Ironborn are all killed or at the Twins where Walder Frey will demand something from me. Something I might not be able to give to him.”

Wallace speaks then. “Ease of him Robb, he did what he thought needed to be done. You were not exactly specific when you said hold Riverrun. Lord Edmure held Riverrun and damaged Lord Tywin’s host. So yes they now are allied with the Tyrells, and we are in a sticky situation, but that is more to do with the fact that you broke your oath to the Freys and married Jeyne Westerling.”

Robb tenses at that and asks in a deadly soft voice. “What do you mean by that Wallace?”

Wallace never one to shy away from speaking the truth, something that only seems to have continued and hardened inside of him since the war squares up and says. “You swore an oath to wed one of Walder Frey’s daughters once this war was done. Admit it Robb, the war in the south is as good as done, the Lannisters and the Tyrells will always be too great a threat to hold back, the Riverlands they might accept as a concession for peace in order to let you deal with the Ironborn. But the only way that we can deal with the Ironborn is if we have the Freys back onside, something which we would not have had to worry about had you managed to keep your dick in your breeches and not simply fucked the first girl to fall into your bed. You are a king, not some servant.”

The blood rushes to Robb’s head then and he moves towards Wallace and without thinking hits him square on the face, Wallace does not hit him back, which only spurs him on to keep on hitting him in the face. Eventually the Blackfish drags him away and Robb panting looks at Wallace who has a bloody lip and a cut across his right cheek and says. “Apologise Wallace. Jeyne is my wife and your queen, whether you like it or not she is my wife now and I will not hear you insult her. No matter the cost, I did the honourable thing when I wed her.”

Wallace is silent for a long time and Robb fears he might have gone too far. But then his friend and brother in arms spits out a wad of blood and says. “Then I am sorry Your Grace, but I spoke the truth and I shall not retake that. As it is there has been fighting in Duskendale between men under Robett Glover’s forces and those under the command of Randyll Tarly. Glover was captured and Ser Helman Tallhart was killed and there were many other casualties. And yet there might be hope for us to return north, for my mother has written to say she has sent some 1,500 men to Harrenhal under command of my brother with which to use in any further battles we might have.”

Robb nods and says. “But why Duskendale? What is there in that town that could be of any use to us?”

Wallace shook his head and said. “I know not. But what I do know is that there will be more attacks on our forces before we can go north and so I do ask for permission to ride for Harrenhal to defend our southern borders from any further attacks from the Lannisters.”

Robb nods and then turns to his mother and asks. “What will Lord Walder want in compensation for the broken betrothal mother?”

His mother looks worn out by grief and tiredness and her voice sounds hollow when she says. “He will want another marriage Robb. He will want the next best thing to having his daughter as Queen. He will want Edmure.”

Edmure begins to protest but Robb cuts him off. “You say you want to pay me back uncle, then do this for me and all past transgressions shall be forgotten.” His uncle is silent after that and then Robb says. “I shall send a raven to the Twins asking for his forgiveness and for us to talk terms. We need that bridge more than ever. Once all has been confirmed, Wallace you may march for Harrenhal.”


	10. Bleeding Me

**Lady Anya Waynwood**

The Vale, a land that had submitted peacefully to the Targaryens nearly 300 years ago and had been ruled by the Arryns since the Andals had come from Essos, had been a peaceful land for most of its existence, true there was the odd trouble with the mountain clans but there was nothing very serious about the political climate, and now with Jon Arryn dead, and his son Robert Arryn a frail boy who was like to die very soon, the climate had changed significantly. The lords of the Vale who for so long had been united in their loyalty to the Arryns were now beginning to divide and splinter as fast as one could breathe, you had those lords who believed that Robert Arryn needed to get away from his mother, the Lady Lysa, for her influence would like worsen things for the poor boy not make them any better, and then you had those lords who believed that Robert Arryn should remain in the Eyrie with his mother and all of her corrosive influences so that they might further their own gain. Anya along with Lords Royce, Belmore, Templeton, Wydman, Waxley and Corbray all believed that Robert Arryn needed to be taken from the Eyrie and fostered elsewhere within the Vale, away from his mother and her steadily declining mental health. Whilst other lords mainly those like Lord Grafton who had connections to King’s Landing wished for Robert Arryn to remain in the Eyrie for their own benefit, were the ones who were causing all the trouble within the Vale. When war had broken out in the Riverlands and the Westerlands, Lord Royce and Anya had been the two most vocal supporters of the Vale sending men to join Robb Stark and Edmure Tully in fighting off the Lannisters, they owed it to the Starks for Ned and for Lord Arryn, but Lady Lysa did nothing and she hid in her castle hoping the world would pass her and her son by.

Robert Arryn himself according to rumour and gossip seemed to have gotten a lot worse in health in the past two years since his father’s death than he had in the previous few years of his short life. Something was going wrong there, whether it be deliberate or accidental, Anya knew not, but what she did know was there was a high chance that her own cousin and ward Harry Hardying otherwise known was Harry the Heir could very soon find himself becoming Lord of the Eyrie and the Vale. And as such Anya was along with Lord Yohn doing her best to prepare her cousin for what might be the inevitable passage into the lordship. Her cousin was a good lad, he was smart and kind, though he could be a bit oafish at times , but what teenage boy was not, Anya could remember how her own boys had been at his age, and so she gave him some leeway, so long as he did well in his studies and his martial practice he could do what he wanted. That had of course meant that Harry had made use of his status as heir to the Vale to sleep with and mess around with any serving girl that he laid eyes on, and Anya had heard the rumours that her cousin had already fathered a bastard on some serving girl. Whether there was any truth to these rumours she knew not. All she knew was that someday soon she would need to arrange a good match for him, a match that would secure his position.

Of course that was not the most pressing of her concerns, since the war had erupted in the riverlands, and her son Wallace had marched south with Robb Stark there had been three attempts on her life. The first one had come just after the whispering wood when some servant had come at her with a hot dish of food, it was a completely botched job, and the man had fled the scene shortly afterwards never to be seen again. The second time had come when she had been walking with her eldest son Morton in the godswood of Iron Oaks, and there a man at arms had come with a message for Morton, and once they had gone off, another man had appeared with a dagger, and had fought with Anya, though she was old now, she still knew the basics of what her uncle Edwyle had taught her and so she managed to hold the man off long enough for her to scream and get attention. The man was captured and was forced to talk, and what he had to say had sent shivers down her spine. The man had been sent by the Lannisters, who were trying to get rid of her and cause some sort of war between her boys and cause the Vale to erupt into chaos. After that there had been increased security within Iron Oaks, and yet somehow someone had managed to get the sleeper into her drink, and she had woken up dazed and confused, only to see her son Donnel standing over a dead boy. He had said one of the maids had tried to poison her to curry favour with some source or the other within the Vale.  These attempts had worried Anya, and made her wonder who could be the rat inside her household who was feeding the Lannisters information, and whether or not it might actually be one of her sons. At the end of it though she had decided that Lysa Arryn could sit secluded in her mountain for all Anya cared, she would have justice and answers. And so she had called her men to arms, sending 1500 of them under Morton’s command to ride for Harrenhal and Wallace, where she had told her eldest son he was to listen to what Wallace had to say accordingly.

And now Lord Royce and his cousin Nestor had come to Iron Oaks to speak with her about the war and what they had all heard about events in the west and even in the east. Her son Donnel was present as well, and so they all sat down, and it was Anya who spoke first. “My lords, we are all three gathered here, due to the fact that there is a war waging in the west, and because Lysa Arryn is too blind to see that one way or another we shall get roped into this conflict. Now I wish to know what news you have had from the front.”

Lord Yohn Royce, who had been Lord of Runestone even when Anya had been a young girl, speaks then his tone gruff and to the point. “Well my lady, what news has come to Runestone has been sporadic and often out of date. We all know of the Young Wolf’s victories at Whispering Wood and the Camps, and in the Westerlands. We also know of the Fords and the Blackwater. Apart from that there is not much more that we actually know about the war in the west. Though we have news from the east, and about a Targaryen who we all thought dead.”

“And what has Daenaerys Targaryen been doing whilst Westeros tears itself apart?” Anya asked curious.

Nestor Royce speaks then his voice soft. “She has been gathering an army around her, her husband’s Khalasar rides behind her and an army of sellswords has flocked to her cause according to what our cousin Rhae says. Though she also writes that Daenaerys Targaryen has dragons, so whether or not the girl is actually doing anything of note or is dead already we know not.”

Anya nods and then says. “Well, for now she is not threatening Westeros and so we need not worry overtly about her and her own designs. However, there are more pressing issues. I asked earlier what you knew about the war in the west, and you have given your response. Well, we received a raven from my son Wallace today, informing us on all the comings and goings of the past few moons. It would appear that Robb Stark has broken his promise to wed one of the Frey girls, and instead wed Jeyne Westerling, after he took her maidenhead in a moment of grief following the news of his brothers’ deaths at the hands of his former friend Theon Greyjoy. Wallace writes that Robb Stark has sent word to Walder Frey, apologising for his actions and hoping that they can repair their alliance. As such, the last Wallace had heard before he rode for battle was that Walder Frey was sending two of his sons or grandsons to treat with King Robb, in order to negotiate the marriage of Edmure Tully and Roslin Frey.”

There is silence for a moment and then Yohn speaks his voice booming in the small room. “That was ill done of King Robb, whilst I can understand why he felt he needed to marry the girl, surely he must have known what that action would cost him. Walder Frey has not been known to forget slights easily, hells, I think he still feels insulted that aunt Perra died on him! There will be something more that that old man wants, and I do not know whether or not a young man like Robb Stark will be willing to pay the price.”

Nestor spoke then his voice calming. “Yohn do you not think you are being a little bit harsh on King Robb? After all he is only sixteen, he has just become a man, and he has already achieved much more than many men twice his age. He also has the burdens of kingship on his shoulders, and so one little mistake might not be so big in the scheme of things. Besides we all know how desperate Walder Frey is to have one of his daughters as Lady of Riverrun. And with the Lannister-Tyrell Alliance there is every chance that the Riverlands might become part of the Iron Throne command once more, as Robb Stark will not be able to hold onto his kingdom for very long having to fight forever in the riverlands.”

Anya spoke then. “Wallace writes that he believes that King Robb means to use Jaime Lannister’s life as a bargaining chip over the Lannisters. The Kingslayer is still Tywin Lannister’s favourite son, and so it is likely that King Robb could use the man’s life as a way to ensure peace in the Riverlands. Though how likely that all is I do not know.”

Lord Yohn speaks then and his voice still remains unconvinced. “King Robb, is that a king, his oath means more now that he has a crown atop his head, then it did when he was simply acting Lord of Winterfell. Whilst he might have felt honour bound to wed Jeyne Westerling, he need not have done so, where were his bannermen when he had this idea? One of them should have married her, and left King Robb free to fulfil his oath. But that is in the past. If Walder Frey lets them through then Jaime Lannister will either be used as a prisoner for the rest of his life, or he will be killed. Either way there will soon come a time, for the full might of the Vale to join the fight.”

Nestor Royce speaks then his voice uneasy. “That might not happen still cousin. My contacts in King’s Landing have told me that Petyr Baelish will be coming to the Eyrie with the King’s blessing, to woo and wed Lysa Arryn, and to make sure that the Vale remains neutral for the remainder of the war. And given the history between the two, it is likely that he will be successful.”

At Nestor’s words, Anya feels the scars on her arms from the last time Baelish was involved in the Vale, and she replies. “Then we must do all we can to make sure that they never marry, for if they do I am telling you now my lords, we shall be worse off than we were before, and there will be civil war.”

Yohn nods and says. “We need to have someone court her who will be more attractive than Baelish with his false titles.”

Anya looks at her son Donnel then and says. “Donnel you are Knight of the Gate, and Lady Lysa seems to have taken a liking to you. It is now your duty to woo her and wed her before Baelish gets her. It should not too hard a task with her being needy and such.”


	11. The Bird And The Worm

**Ser Morton Waynwood**

This war that had all started when Catelyn Tully had taken Tyrion Lannister hostage had been going on for nearly two years now, and in that time Morton and his family, both his actual family and his mother and brother had lived in the constant fear that they would one day receive a letter from some riverlander or northerner telling them of Wallace’s death. As Morton looked at his brother, ordering men about Harrenhal and barking instructions at the old timer Roose Bolton, he could not but help feel a bit of pity as well as some envy towards his youngest brother. Wallace had been a charming young man before the war though he could be quite shy on occasion, and now this charming young man had been replaced by a grim and solemn man who seemed much older and wiser than his years, it was in this that Morton felt the most sorry for his brother, for Wallace had had to grow up very quickly during the war, he was only sixteen and yet sometimes Morton did genuinely think Wallace was the older sibling and he the younger. And it was this that also led to slightly uncharitable thoughts of his brother, and his own fear that their mother would name Wallace her heir following the conclusion of this war, after all before he had left Iron Oaks, all Morton had heard from his mother was the praise that she had been heaping on Wallace for his various achievements, and it had made him feel very small and insignificant.

As of now though there was not much else that could be truly done, now that they had received orders from Riverrun to make their way towards the Twins for the wedding of Edmure Tully the new Lord of Riverrun to Roslin Frey, one of old Walder Frey’s many daughters. Morton himself had expressed many doubts over whether or not this wedding would happen without a hitch given how old and prickly Walder Frey was renowned for being. Wallace had merely looked at him and said. “It matters not what Walder Frey throws at us, if we want to regain the north we shall need his bridge and his men, and Robb shall have to deal with whatever insults the old bat throws at him or Jeyne.” Such maturity from his brother, and combined with some of the feelings he had been getting off of Roose Bolton had made him feel very uneasy about the possible battles coming up. As such a council has been called by Wallace to discuss various things before they move out. Present, are Wallace, Morton, Lord Roose Bolton,, Ser Kyle Condon and Ser Ronnel Stout. Wallace speaks first with the confidence of a man who has seen war before. “We all know what we are supposed to do, today. We are to march through the rain and the snow and whatever else the weather decides to throw at us, and make it to the Twins, for this damnable wedding. We must get there before any Lannister men try and overrun us. Now I would hear what news our scouts have brought us.”

Ser Ronnel Stout the man in charge of the scouts, is a big gruff man with a voice to match his tone is even when he replies. “The scouts I sent out reported that there should be a clearing of some twenty miles as the crow flies towards the Ruby Ford, and that if we make quick time now, we should be able to make to the other side of the river before any Lannister men try and attack us.”

“Has there been any actual sightings of Lannister soldiers?” Roose Bolton asked.

Ser Ronnel shakes his head. “Apart from the last sightings we had of a baggage train some two weeks ago no my lord there have not been any more sightings.”

Wallace speaks then. “Well they might still be lurking around here. Lord Bolton you shall command the left of our host, Ser Kyle shall command the right, I shall command the centre. Ser Kyle you shall cross first, the centre shall cross second and Lord Bolton you shall cross last. If there are any Lannister soldiers waiting to pick us off, we shall give them a good fight.”

With that the meeting comes to an end, yet Wallace and Morton remain in the room. Once all the other men have left Morton turns to his brother and asks. “Was it a wise move to give command of the left to Bolton? He seemed a little to eager to lead the right or even the centre.”

Wallace is silent for a moment, doing the brooding that he so often does Morton has noticed before he finally says. “That was why I gave him command of the left, the man is a snake, that much is true. There was something suspicious about the way in which the attack on Duskendale was carried out, Robett Glover and Helman Tallhart are far too experienced to actually think taking Duskendale by storm would be worth anything to the campaign or themselves. I have a feeling that Roose Bolton orchestrated that whole thing. Before I left for Harrenhal, Robb received a raven from Bolton’s bastard stating that he had managed to salvage some of the wreckage from Winterfell including Theon Greyjoy. But I don’t know whether that was the truth or another lie. Regardless, should the Lannisters attack us during the march; it will be Bolton and his own men that pay the most significant price.”

“Still how do you know he won’t simply allow the Lannisters to run past his men and attack us from behind, or even attack us from behind himself?” Morton asked.

His brother sighed and said. “I don’t but it is a risk I will have to take if I want to cross through safely and securely. We have already lost too many men due to some ploy or the other we cannot lose more. This is the only way I can think of, making our casualties less than what they might otherwise be.”

Later on that day during the afternoon, they ride out from Harrenhal some 6,000 strong riding for the Twins from Harrenhal. The ride is relatively peaceful until the rain comes down, pouring down in great buckets, making it hard to see a few metres in front of yourself, let alone a mile in front. The rain picks up quite considerably the closer they get towards the Ruby Ford, where Robert Baratheon once won his crown against the Targaryens. They stop when they see how overflowing the river is, “They’ll need to take boats to cross the river now, horses won’t do much good going through that.” Morton shouts to his brother, who nods and bellows commands. Soon enough Ser Kyle Condon and his men are sailing on boats across the river, once the last man from the right has crossed over, Morton and his men are about to begin dismounting when a horn is sounded and the sound of heavy horse can be heard. “LANNISTERS!” Someone shouts and soon enough battle begins.

The fighting is brutal and fast, Morton swings his sword once, then twice and then thrice more, and men continue to fall, hacking slashing, cutting, ducking, and dodging. All his training finally comes into use, and men fall before him, his sword stained red with blood, the ground filling with bodies and the water turning red with the blood of fallen foes. On it goes, hacking and slashing, hacking and slashing, hacking and slashing, hacking and slashing. On and on and on and on, more and more men keep coming towards him wearing the red Lannister clothing, and still they keep falling and more people keep replacing them. On and on it goes, Morton can feel himself beginning to feel tired and still more and more keep coming at him, and soon enough he knows he won’t be able to keep going. He feels something pierce his armour and looks down to see a sword wound has opened just above his heart.

Still he fights on and as he does so, he sees more northmen riding through the water, horses and men drowning in equal measure, but still the centre keeps on fighting, Morton’s vision is getting hazy but on and on he fights. If he has to die, he will die bringing as many Lannister men with him as he can, on it goes, swinging and hacking. Blood is leaving him in copious amounts, someone knocks his sword from his hand and he falls to his knees, but before the man can bring his own sword down on Morton, he is killed by Wallace. “Stay with me brother,” Wallace says through his wolf helm. “You can’t die yet. “ And with that two men begin taking Morton across the water, but before they do Morton swears he sees Wallace go up against a giant of a man who can only be Ser Gregor Clegane, he watches amazed as his brother’s direwolf jumps on Ser Gregor Clegane, distracting him whilst Wallace swings his sword over and over again, until the giant falls down dead. With that Morton passes out.


	12. A Lion IN The Sand

**Lord Tywin Lannister**

King’s Landing was at peace for now, Stannis Baratheon was sat on Dragonstone nursing his wounds like the whipped cur that he was, and soon enough the man would no longer be a threat, for the Redwyne Fleet was sailing from the Arbor at this very moment and was due to be in King’s Landing in roughly three days or so, and once it was in King’s Landing they would stay for orders and then sail to Dragonstone once and for all. That was something that Tywin was looking forward to for it meant that there would be far fewer Tyrell men present within the capital, what with Paxter Redwyne and his cronies as well as Ser Loras Tyrell volunteering to take Dragonstone, and so just leaving Mace Tyrell and the other Tyrells that could be easily dealt with in the capital. Tywin only hoped that both Cersei and Joffrey could contain themselves long enough for Joffrey’s wedding to go by without incident, though he was growing increasingly concerned about just how foolish both of them were. Cersei could be quite smart when she was not being ruled by her emotions, but as of late that was all that was ruling her, it seemed that she could not truly handle the stress that this royal wedding was putting her under, and as such Tywin was debating whether or not it would not make more sense to simply send her back to Casterly Rock once the wedding was done, and then perhaps wed her to Willas Tyrell so as to foil the Tyrells plan of wedding Sansa Stark to the heir of Highgarden. As to Joffrey, well Tywin was not entirely sure what to do with the boy, he was king that was true, but if he were not taught a sharp lesson soon enough he would become worse than Aerys had been after Duskendale, and that would only encourage more people to rise up in rebellion, perhaps a little incident could be arranged for him.

Of course though Stannis was tamed for now, there was still a war waging in the Riverlands. The Starks refused to bend over and die, and so they continued to fight and continued to prolong this war, that if he was being quite frank, Tywin wanted to end. Robb Stark had shown himself to be a very good military leader; his accomplishments during the Whispering Wood, the Battle of Camps and at Oxcross had shown that he truly was his father’s son in terms of military smarts. Still his decision to wed Jeyne Westerling after he had deflowered her instead of retaining his allegiance to the Freys showed just how naive he still was, even after all the tragedy he had experienced with Theon Greyjoy and his betrayal, his father’s son to the very bone. As to the other Stark, well Waynwood, but still a wolf, had shown himself to be just as capable if not more so than Robb Stark. That the boy had killed Gregor Clegane in itself was worthy of respect and admiration, and had started Tywin wondering if perhaps the boy was the more dangerous of the two wolves currently leading the northern forces. As such though, there were pressing concerns that Tywin had to discuss with the small council, the war being just one of them.  The members of the small council were all present, Cersei, Mace Tyrell, Varys, Pycelle, Randyll Tarly, Tyrion who was serving as master of coin in Baelish’s absence and Kevan. Tywin looked at them all and the spoke. “Now, we all know why we are here. There was word from the riverlands this morning, it would appear that as Roose Bolton and his northmen were marching towards the Twins at the Ruby Ford Crossing, and when Ser Gregor and his men fell upon them, they offered some stiff resistance. Ser Gregor was slain by Wallace Waynwood and his men were broken and defeated. Waynwood, Bolton and their men made it across the river, with Bolton making his way to the Twins directly and Waynwood making for Riverrun.”

Silence and then Tyrion quips. “The Hound would be most disappointed that it was not he who got to kill the Mountain. Nonetheless that is a big blow to our forces in the Riverlands, what with Jaime still in the dungeons of Riverrun. Who will be given command of the forces still remaining?”

Tywin looks at his son for a moment and then says. “Ser Addam Marbrand shall be riding out with some 300 Red Cloaks on the morrow to join with what is left of the Mountain’s men and then from there they shall retake Harrenhal. Now what other news is there for us to discuss?”

Cersei speaks then. “If we discuss the royal wedding there are a few things that must needs be openly discussed before they can be approved.”

Tywin sighs and says. “Very well, what is there about the wedding that must needs be discussed?”

Cersei looks down at the list in front of her and says. “Well with the Martells and their entourage coming from Dorne, there will be an additional 200 people coming, and as such we shall need space for them to be housed as well. Given the fact that Myrcella is currently betrothed to Prince Trystane, perhaps a place within the Red Keep could be set aside for Prince Doran and his closest advisors with the rest of the party being housed in the grounds?”

Tywin looks at Pycelle and asks him. “Is there enough space within the Red Keep to do as presented here?”

Pycelle nods his head and says. “Yes my lord there is.”

Mace Tyrell speaks then and asks. “Out of curiosity through which route are Prince Doran and his entourage travelling through?”

“Through the Boneway Pass and then north I believe, that was what Prince Doran had written in his last letter.” Cersei replies.

Mace Tyrell begins to puff up like a fish. “The man has not asked for me leave to pass through my lands. And whilst I do not wish to ruin my daughter’s wedding with such matters, it would have been nice had the man had the decency to ask for permission to ride through my lands.”

Tywin looks at the man and fixes him with a cold look. “Surely this will not cause too much trouble for you my lord? Prince Doran and his entourage will likely head east and head past Summerhall to get to King’s Landing. They might only stay briefly in the Reach as they collect their whole party. This is not a matter to ruin a wedding surely?”

The man seems cowed by that and says softly. “Of course my lord hand.”

Tywin nods happy with that answer and then says. “Now of course, with Robb Stark looking to move most of his strength north to deal with the Ironborn, the riverlands will be ripe for the taking. Once Lord Baelish has succeeded in bringing Lysa Arryn to bed and marriage, and through her the Vale, we shall need to be ready to bring the Riverlands back into the fold either by force or by politics. The riverlords will hold to Riverrun, and so any child Baelish and Lysa Arryn have shall be named Lord or Lady of Riverrun and so that shall be how we take the riverlands back. But that is for another time, now is there anything more that we must discuss?”

Lord Varys speaks then his voice no louder than a whisper. “My sources in the east, have been reporting strange tidings. It would appear the last Targaryen has developed quite a following about herself. She has an army of unsullied and a Khalasar as well as three dragons supposedly. She has taken most of Slaver’s Bay by storm and is said to be heading towards Meeren now for gathering force. She might very soon become a realistic threat.”

Tywin nods and says. “There is still a spy working for the crown amongst her midst is there not?” When Varys nods he says. “Well then tell this spy that soon enough the time to halt Daenaerys Targaryen will come, and I expect him to carry out the duty himself. Now if that is all I wish to speak to my children alone.” As the members begin to file out he says. “Kevan stay.” Once the last member has left and the door has closed, he turns to Cersei and Tyrion and says. “I did not wish to bring this up in front of the rest of the council, but the two of you are needed to marry once more.”

Immediately Cersei begins stuttering protests. “I am the Queen Regent; I shall not marry again, not after Robert.”

Tywin cuts her off with a look and says. “The more time you spend unwed, the more people will believe these foul rumours that Stannis Baratheon has been spreading about you and the children. Marry and produce heirs for someone else, and these rumours will stop. The Tyrells mean to wed Willas Tyrell to Sansa Stark, but we cannot allow her to leave just yet, she will be too valuable. Therefore I propose wedding you to either Willas Tyrell, or to Prince Oberyn Martell or perhaps even to Balon Greyjoy himself.”

“So I have a choice of either wedding the cripple, the viper or the old man. What an honour you bestow upon me father. Truly I am honoured.” Cersei replies.

“I do not care if it is honour you seek, you will do your duty to your family and marry and have children again. As to you Tyrion, you shall wed Sansa Stark. With her brothers dead, she is the key to the north. Wed her bed her and get her with child and Winterfell shall be yours, and the north with it.” Tywin says. Silence and then he says. “I will give you time to think over these marriages the both of you, but they will happen. House Lannister must strengthen its position. Now go, Kevan stay behind.”

Once they have left his brother turns to him and says. “You did not think that they should know about the wedding at the Twins brother?”

Tywin shakes his head and says. “No, I do not trust Cersei with that information, and Tyrion speaks too much for it to be good for him. No when the time comes and the deed is done, then they shall know, not before then. Besides, it is possible that Robb Stark will name his sister Arya his heir, should she be found in the north, what’s more Eddard Stark’s bastard deserted the Watch and has married Bolton’s daughter Lyarra. That is one thing we could use to our advantage in the current climate and in what is to come.”

“Stark’s bastard has broken his vows to the Watch? It seems Eddard Stark’s sons are not as noble as he was after all. One breaks a marriage vow and the other breaks a sacred and binding vow. What next?” Kevan says.

Tywin nods. “Bolton wishes for Snow to be legitimised and named Lord of Winterfell following the wedding. Should all go according to plan, I might just very well do that. After all the boy is a son of Eddard Stark’s and that is something that should be easier for the northmen to swallow than having them be led by Bolton or is own bastard.”

“But then what will you do about Tyrion and Sansa Stark if Jon Snow is legitimised?” Kevan asks.

“For now, nothing, let them get married first and let us see how good Bolton proves in remaining loyal. Should he prove himself I might allow Riverrun to go to Sansa Stark, if Bolton fails, then his house shall end with him, and Sansa Stark shall get Winterfell and the north.” Tywin replies.


	13. Come Sing My Song

**Jon Snow**

Sometimes at night he can hear the shouts of the men as they fought through the wildlings that had attacked them during the great ranging, other time he can hear Sam and Grenn and Pyp and all the others joking around in the hall of Castle Black, and then there are times where all he can hear or feel is Ygritte pressed up against him in their furs. All of these thoughts haunt him a night and make him question whether he truly made the right move in deserting the Night’s Watch, He had just come back from the great ranging broke, bruised and scarred and not knowing which way he was actually heading, Sam and all the others were still absent, and yet he had come back alive, and that had hurt him more than anything, and then Maester Aemon had told him about the sack of Winterfell and Theon Greyjoy’s betrayal and his world had ended. Then the very same day the wildlings led by Tormund Giantsbane had attacked, and though the fighting had been brutal it had been quick, Jon had nearly died trying to fight, and when he had killed Ygritte with an arrow meant for someone else, he had shed a tear, for her, and for the brothers he would never see again. And then Lyarra’s letter arrived, and he had to leave he just had to leave, before Ygritte before the wall before anything else she had always been there for him and he for her, and if she was asking for his help well he just had to give it to her.

And so in the middle of the night he had left Castle Black, none had chased him and he had the feeling that perhaps he might have been allowed to escape, Maester Aemon showing once again just how omnipotent he truly was. He rode as hard as he could for the Dreadfort, riding at night and doing his best not to attract attention, and what he saw as he rode through the north angered him greatly. It seemed that the Ironborn were not going to spare a single part of the land that they had conquered, burnt and blackened it was, people looking hungry and starving with winter and the greater evil coming that was dangerous, so very dangerous. It was ghost who found the Dreadfort first, bounding right up to its open gates and then jumping onto Lyarra, who looked even lovelier than Jon remembered, and they had spoken later that day about the Dreadfort, about Ramsay Snow her bastard brother and the situation in the north as a whole, and it was during these discussions that he learnt that not only had Winterfell fallen only to be cleared out by Ramsay Snow, there were Ironborn at Torrhen’s Square, Deepwood Motte and Moat Cailin. When Jon asked Lyarra where Ramsay was, she said she knew not but she suspected he might either be making his way to the Dreadfort or he would be in castle Hornwood. And it was with this in mind that Jon wed Lyarra two nights after arriving in the Dreadfort, he had no cloak to wrap around her shoulders but he swore the vows all the same and he meant them all the more, for he had always cared about her, this girl who none else had really taken to.

It was only after marrying her that the fear that his family would hate him and reject him due to his desertion kicked in, no matter what Lyarra did to soothe his fears he still felt guilty about what he had done. He might not bear the name Stark, but he was a Stark nonetheless and they took their oaths very seriously, breaking such a sworn vow as this meant that the next time Robb and he met, his brother would have to take his head and then all he had done had been for naught. That was the fear at the forefront of his mind for a few days after the wedding, and then he began hoping that his relationship with Robb would outweigh Robb’s desire to uphold the law, or any other kind of oath, after all Jon had heard of how Robb had broken his oath to the Freys and wed Jeyne Westerling some westerlander girl who gave him nothing. Now most of his days were spent with his wife and their unborn child and thinking of ways to remove Ramsay Snow from ever trying to threaten his wife or family ever again.

“What’s wrong Jon?” He heard Lyarra ask. He looks up at her and cocks an eyebrow and she goes on. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so pensive Jon. What’s wrong?”

He’s silent for a moment trying to find the right words for what he wants to say, eventually he says. “There was word from Damon; it would appear that your brother means to return to the Dreadfort, but with more than just his own detestable person. He means to bring back someone called Reek, who Damon tells me is actually Theon Greyjoy.”

Lyarra takes his hand in hers and laces their fingers together. “If it is Theon Greyjoy we shall have to let them in, we cannot allow Ramsay to have any more control over the man, not when he is your brother’s prisoner by rights. Ramsay cannot set foot in the Dreadfort, not after the decree that your brother and my father signed, so it must be that he stays outside whilst Theon Greyjoy and the bastard’s boys come back into the castle.”

“And what if he tries to force his way in? He has some Frey boy serving as his squire, whilst the other one sits here rotting away with that haunted look in his eyes. I have been speaking to those who survived the sack of Winterfell, and they all say the same story, Greyjoy was about to surrender before he arrived, and then after that chaos erupted. How do I know that it was not him who caused the sack and my brothers’ deaths? If he was responsible for their deaths I owe it to Bran and Rickon to try and get them justice.” Jon says.

“It is very possible that he was responsible for their deaths Jon, after all that is something that he would take perverse pleasure in, but you can’t act just yet. Not with our marriage so fresh in the memory, and with Arya still out there, if you act now and fail, either you die and he escapes, or you live and he still escapes and he goes hunting for Arya and then where would that put us all?” Lyarra responds.

Jon runs a hand through his curls and sighs. “I know that Lyarra, truly I do. It’s just that I wish there was more I could do. Whilst I was away at the wall freezing my balls off, my little siblings were left in Winterfell defenceless and alone, and Theon Greyjoy betrayed them all and for what? A chance in the sun, to show his father that he was worth something? Pah,” he spits then and goes on. “That man was always too bloody cocky for my liking, I tried to tell Robb that he should not be trusted, but Robb always had to see the good in everyone, he could never see the rot in Theon. And now we don’t have Winterfell, and the Ironborn hold the four most important castles in the north par this one.”

Lyarra tightens her grip on his hand and says. “I know Jon, I know truly I do. But you cannot go beating yourself up about it now. You have a wife and a child to think about and with Ramsay still out there, we must act carefully until my father and your brother return from the south.”

Jon is about to reply when there is a knock on the door and Maester Tybald enters the room sweating. “The Bastard and his men are outside the gates my lady, demanding to be let in, otherwise they will climb over the gates.”


	14. Weddings Are Red

**King Robb I Stark**

Riverrun, the castle had become dark and bleak following the battle of the fords, and Tywin Lannister’s victory at the Blackwater, an air of failure had hung over the castle, suffocating all those who were present inside it. Hoster Tully, Robb’s grandfather had died some three days after Robb had returned from the Westerlands with Jeyne, and by the time Walder Frey had responded to his offer, they had sent Lord Hoster out to the river as was Tully custom. Walder Frey had sent his two sons Lame Lothar Frey and the bastard Walder Rivers, to discuss the terms of their new alliance. Surprisingly the man had been quite lenient in what he wanted, where Robb had expected that there were to be much grovelling and such involved all Walder Frey asked for as well as Edmure marrying Roslin Frey, was that Robb himself come to the Twins to apologise in person to Walder Frey for the broken marriage pact, if that was all it took to get back into Walder Frey’s good books and then cross the bridge north back home then Robb was more than willing to do that. The mood at Riverrun had improved somewhat when Wallace had sent word ahead of his arrival of a battle at the Ruby Ford which had seen victory for them and their cause, with Wallace being the one to strike the nail in the Clegane coffin by killing the Mountain himself. Such news came at a good time and lifted the spirits of those within Riverrun and those around them, and as such when Wallace arrived there was some celebrating that was done, though at the back of his mind Robb looked at Wallace and remembered what it was that his friend had said before he had left for Harrenhal.

Of course with the war far from won, Robb was doing his best to get an heir to Jeyne before he had left for the Twins, she would not be coming to the Twins so as not to rub salt in the wound of his broken betrothal, and yet no matter how hard they tried nothing seemed to work. They had been wed for a moon now, and yet Jeyne’s womb was not quickening with child, and that thought worried Robb. He had spoken to maester Vyman about the fertility of the Westerlings, and though the man had said that they were not really renowned for either being infertile or for being extremely fertile, the one thing that kept playing in his mind, was the fact that there had been a Jeyne Westerling who had been wed to a Targaryen king in years past, and she had produced stillbirth after stillbirth before she had eventually died at the hands of the Faith Militant. Robb had begun worrying about whether or not he had made the right choice in actually marrying Jeyne, though he was convinced that he had made the honourable choice, he was soon coming to learn that making the honourable choice was not necessarily the best choice, and so the headaches and the pain continued and he had had to turn his thoughts to who to name as his heir should something happen to him before he could get Jeyne with child. As it was he had three possible people he could name as heir, Arya who all still believed to be alive somewhere in the north, would make sense as his heir, she was a true Stark and had the fire to help lead the north, Wallace of course was a proven battle commander and knew what to do in the north, that he was betrothed to Arya only made things easier, Jon of course was another option, he was wed to Lyarra Bolton though and had broken his oath to the Night’s Watch and Robb was not sure what he was going to do with his brother following his return north. As much as he hated to admit to it, Sansa was a lost cause, news had come to them at Oldstones that Sansa had been wed to the Imp, and there was one thing Robb could not allow and that was to allow the Lannisters to have control over Winterfell, and so Sansa had been disinherited from the succession.

This was something both he and his mother had agreed on when they had made camp at Oldstones, and before they had marched on Robb had written his will naming Wallace his heir should he die before he could get Jeyne with child. Once the lords present had affixed their seal to the document, he had given a copy of it to Galbart Glover and then sent Glover, Maege Mormont and Wallace on ships from Seagard to find the Neck, whilst the Waynwood men some 300 of them led by Wallace’s brother Morton, marched for the Bite where ships were waiting for them sent from Runestone. Lord Rickard Karstark and his 800 men he sent north from Oldstones on the same boats that were carrying Wallace and his will, they were to find the Neck and Greywater Watch and deal with the Ironborn that way. All in all though he had made the plans and there was nothing else he felt he could do, there was still a feeling of tension in his stomach.

"Your Grace," Lord Walder called out to Robb, "the septon has prayed his prayers, some words have been said, and Lord Edmure's wrapped my sweetling in a fish cloak, but they are not yet man and wife. A sword needs a sheath, heh, and a wedding needs bedding. What does my sire say? Is it meet that we should bed them?"

Robb raised a hand. "if you think the time is meet, Lord Walder, by all means let us bed them."

A roar of approval greeted his pronouncement. Up in the gallery the musicians took up their pipes and horns and fiddles again, and began to play "The Queen Took Off Her Sandal, the King Took Off His Crown." Jinglebell hopped from foot to foot, his own crown ringing. "I hear Tully men have trout between their legs instead of cocks," Alyx Frey called out boldly. "Does it take a worm to make them rise?" To which Ser Marq Piper threw back, "I hear that Frey women have two gates in place of one!" and Alyx said, "Aye, but both are closed and barred to little things like you!" A gust of laughter followed, until Patrek Mallister climbed up onto a table to propose a toast to Edmure's one-eyed fish. "And a mighty pike it is!" he proclaimed. "Nay, I'll wager it's a minnow," Fat Walda Bolton shouted out from Robb’s side. Then the general cry of "Bed them! Bed them!" went up again.

The guests swarmed the dais, the drunkest in the forefront as ever. The men and boys surrounded Roslin and lifted her into the air whilst the maids and mothers in the hall pulled Edmure to his feet and began tugging at his clothing. He was laughing and shouting bawdy jokes back at them, though the music was too loud for Robb to hear what all was said though he did hear the Greatjon bellow. "Give this little bride to me," he bellowed as he shoved through the other men and threw Roslin over one shoulder. "Look at this little thing! No meat on her at all!"

As he watched the bride and groom get carried away, he made to walk back to his seat, but when he saw Edwyn Frey push his mother away, and then saw her slap him, he felt his anger stir and he made to move towards them, but then felt something pierce him in the back.  He looked down to see a quarrel jutting out of his rib, a second quarrel buried itself in his leg, then a third buried itself in his chest, and he staggered to the floor. Robin Flint was ringed by Freys, their daggers rising and falling. Ser Wendel Manderly rose ponderously to his feet, holding his leg of lamb. A quarrel went in his open mouth and came out the back of his neck. Ser Wendel crashed forward, knocking the table off its trestles and sending cups, flagons, trenchers, platters, turnips, beets, and wine bouncing, spilling, and sliding across the floor.

He heard his mother scream but could not reply, blood was filling his mouth. The Smalljon bludgeoned Ser Raymund Frey across the face with a leg of mutton. But when he reached for his swordbelt a crossbow bolt drove him to his knees. In a coat of gold or a coat of red, a lion still has claws. He saw Lucas Blackwood cut down by Ser Hosteen Frey. One of the Vances was hamstrung by Black Walder as he was wrestling with Ser Harys Haigh. And mine are long and sharp, my lord, as long and sharp as yours. The crossbows took Donnel Locke.  When had they begun playing the Rains of Castamere? Robb thought. The Smalljon had thrown a table over him by that point though and so Robb’s vision was obscured.

"Mercy!" His mother cried, but horns and drums and the clash of steel smothered her plea. Ser Ryman buried the head of his axe in Dacey's stomach. By then men were pouring in the other doors as well, mailed men in shaggy fur cloaks with steel in their hands. Northmen!  From where he lay on the floor he took them for rescue for half a heartbeat, till one of them struck the Smalljon's head off with two huge blows of his axe. Hope blew out like a candle in a storm.

In the midst of slaughter, the Lord of the Crossing sat on his carved oaken throne, watching greedily. Robb threw the table away and struggled to his feet, arrows protruding from his body, and blood pouring from his wounds. Lord Walder raised a hand, and the music stopped, all but one drum. "Heh," Lord Walder cackled at Robb, "the King in the North arises. Seems we killed some of your men, Your Grace. Oh, but I'll make you an apology, that will mend them all again, heh."

Robb saw his mother grab Jinglebell “Lord Walder!" she shouted. "LORD WALDER!" The drum beat slow and sonorous, doom boom doom. "Enough," said Catelyn. "Enough, I say. You have repaid betrayal with betrayal, let it end." When she pressed her dagger to Jinglebell's throat, the memory of Bran's sickroom came back to her, with the feel of steel at her own throat. The drum went boom boom boom boom boom doom. "Please," she said. "He is my son. My first son and my last. Let him go. Let him go and I swear we will forget this . . . forget all you've done here. I swear it by the old gods and new, we . . . we will take no vengeance . . . "

 

Lord Walder peered at her in mistrust. "Only a fool would believe such blather. D'you take me for a fool, my lady?"

"I take you for a father. Keep me for a hostage, Edmure as well if you haven't killed him. But let Robb go."

“No,” his voice was a whisper now so very faint. “Mother no...”

“Yes. Robb, get up. Get up and walk out, please, please. Save yourself . . . if not for me, for Jeyne..” His mother begged of him tears in her eyes.

 

“Jeyne ?” he grabbed the edge of a table and forced himself to stand. “Mother, Greywind...”

 

"Go to him. Now. Robb, walk out of here."

 

Lord Walder snorted. "And why would I let him do that?"

 

His mother pressed the blade deeper into Jinglebell's throat. The lackwit rolled his eyes at her in mute appeal. A foul stench assailed her nose, but she paid it no more mind than she did the sullen ceaseless pounding of that drum, boom doom boom doom boom doom. Ser Ryman and Black Walder were circling round her back, Robb was about to shout out a warning to he when she spoke once more. "On my honour as a Tully," she told Lord Walder, "on my honour as a Stark, I will trade your boy's life for Robb's. A son for a son." Her hand shook so badly she was ringing Jinglebell's head.

 

Boom, the drum sounded, boom doom boom doom. The old man's lips went in and out. The knife trembled in Catelyn's hand, slippery with sweat. "A son for a son, heh," he repeated. "But that's a grandson . . . and he never was much use."

 

Roose Bolton walked up to him then, a knife in hand, Robb leaned forward thinking to use his support. Bolton leaned in and whispered in that deceitfully soft voice of his, “The Lannisters send their regards..” Then Robb felt the cold steel being plunged into his chest, he felt the blood pour out of him, he heard his mother screaming, he heard the howling of Greywind far in the woods. But before the Young Wolf died, there was one name on his lips. “Jeyne..” Then the King in the North died.


	15. The Aftermath

**Tyrion Lannister**

After the Blackwater Tyrion had gone through various stages of anger, there was the anger that his family had pretty much left him to die, the anger that his achievements were being ignored or rather being heaped onto others, and then finally when he was good enough to recover and take part in courtly life again, he was shunted and bunted and then made to greet the Dornish contingent, that had come to King’s Landing. They had all expected the Dornish prince that would come to King’s Landing would be Prince Doran, the man was old in his years and wise beyond them, he knew how to negotiate and debate, his brother on the other hand was notoriously hot tempered. As luck would have it, it was Prince Oberyn who greeted Tyrion at the gates to King’s Landing that day three weeks ago, not Prince Doran, for Prince Doran was far too ill to make the journey from Sunspear, or so that was what Oberyn that told Tyrion. As it was Tyrion knew that they were treading a very thin line with Oberyn and his Dornish contingent, one wrong word from anyone and there would be blood on the streets of King’s Landing. With Gregor Clegane and Armory Lorch both dead, Tyrion genuinely did wonder who it was Oberyn had come to King’s Landing for, his sister’s murders were dead, and Tyrion did have the sneaking suspicion though that the Prince was here to have his final word and remove Tyrion’s own father from power.

However, that was not the biggest of Tyrion’s worries, as his father had commanded he had wed Sansa Stark in the Sept of Baelor some two weeks ago, neither of them had been happy with the marriage. Tyrion because it made him feel like a rapist and as if he was betraying Shae, and Sansa, Tyrion knew though his wife would never admit it, did not like the marriage due to the fact that he was a Lannister, and after everything his family had done to her family he was not completely surprised by that.  He had done his best to preserve her from the horrors of their wedding somewhat, by refusing to bed her until she was ready and willing to do so, but that had seemingly backfired on him as well, for his wife continued to refuse to even look at him let alone speak to him, and the rumours and jokes that he received from many including his idiot of a nephew Joffrey, were beginning to grate on his nerves. Of course all of this anger and resentment he felt towards his father and his little wife, seemed completely misplaced when news of the Red Wedding reached his ears. Learning it in a council meeting, much to Joffrey’s gloating pleasure and then having to break the news to Sansa had been one of the toughest things that Tyrion had had to do, watching has the last bit of hope and joy she had had leave her eyes, was completely heartbreaking and if he had had to power to numb that pain he would have. And yet his wife would not let him do his duty at least in one aspect to her, she would not let him comfort her, and so he drank his way to oblivion most nights and slept alone in a cold bed.

His head was pounding from pain after one such night, as he sat in the council chamber waiting for his father to enter the room. The other council members were all present, his sister Cersei there representing Joffrey as Queen Regent, his uncle Kevan there as master of laws, Mace Tyrell Lord of Highgarden Master of ships, Grand Maester Pycelle, Master of Whispers Varys, advisors Lord Randyll Tarly and Lord Mathis Rowan. As the doors opened and Tyrion’s father Tywin Lannister walked in they all stood and then when he was seated and nodded for them to sit down, he spoke his voice deep. “Now, it has been sometime since we last met. Last we met, we learnt of Robb Stark’s death at the Twins under Walder Frey’s hands. As such, for his part in ending the war with the Stark boy, Walder Frey has been granted extra land that once belonged to the Mallisters, and his sons and grandsons have been sent to foster or ward with noble houses in the Westerlands. Black Walder Frey has also gathered a force of men to lay siege to Seagard, whilst at the same time our cousin Ser Daven Lannister and Ser Forley Prester are leading a host of men to lay siege to Riverrun. Now what more news is there that needs discussing?”

Grand Maester Pycelle spoke then his voice querrlous. “There was a raven from Ser Ryman Frey that arrived this morning my lord hand. It contained some very disturbing news. It appears that Ser Brynden Tully finally decided on what to do with the prisoner that he was left by Robb Stark.” Pycelle paused for a moment and Tyrion felt his heart drop. “Ser Jaime Lannister’s head was dropped from the battlements of Riverrun and landed in front of Ser Ryman. His body soon followed.”

There is silence for a long moment as the whole room tries to take in what has happened and then Cersei speaks her voice laced with barely concealed anger. “And what does Ser Ryman plan to do about this? Did he mention whether he plans on making sure that the Blackfish and all those fools who remain within Riverrun are punished as they rightly should be?”

Pycelle looks at the letter in front of him then and says. “No Your Grace, he did not say what he planned on doing in response to that particular action. Though he did say that he plans to threaten the Blackfish with his nephew Lord Edmure’s death unless he surrenders the castle.”

Tyrion snorts then and says. “As if that will stop the Blackfish. The man’s stubbornness is well known throughout Westeros. If Robb Stark told him to hold Riverrun, he will hold it until he dies and then some. His nephew’s death will not faze him, nothing will. Ser Ryman is wasting his time.”

Cersei speaks then clearly searching for something in light of Jaime’s death. “The Tully words are Family, Duty, and Honour in that order. Surely if his nephew’s life is in danger the old fool will relent and surrender Riverrun? Besides there is always the chance that even with Edmure Tully’s death, his wife might give him a son in which case there is always the chance that the old fool might be made to see reason.”

Tyrion looks at his father and sees that though he wears a mask of complete composure, underneath it all he is deeply shaken by news of Jaime’s death they all our.  He takes a breath and then says. “We shall deal with the Blackfish and his troublesome nature when the time comes. Until that time Tyrion, yourself and Sansa Stark shall be named Lord and Lady of Riverrun by the crown as well as Lord and Lady of Winterfell. Once Roose Bolton has dealt with the Ironborn you shall head north and gain your rightful place.” He pauses when Varys coughs.

“Pardon me for the interruption my lord hand, but some recent news that will be of interest to you all might make it that much harder for Lord Tyrion and Lady Sansa claim Winterfell once Roose Bolton is finished with the Ironborn.” Varys says.

“What do you mean Lord Varys?” Cersei asks her voice sharp, her grief badly hidden.

Lord Varys looks at Tyrion when he replies. “One of my spies within Riverrun over heard a guard who had overheard a conversation between the Blackfish and one of the men in Riverrun’s household. They were speaking about Robb Stark’s will, and how with his death Wallace Waynwood was now the boy’s heir. Robb Stark in his last act before his death, disinherited his sister the Lady Sansa in favour of a distant cousin who is betrothed to a sister he has not seen in two years. The northern lords who were present for this declaration are either in captivity or are on the loose heaven know where.”

“And how does this affect my brother’s chance of claiming Winterfell in his bride’s name? If all the lords who were there are either dead or likely to be dead. The north will know nothing of this will.” Cersei says ignorantly.

Tyrion sighs and says. “It matters because there are still straight hearted Stark loyalists in the north, who will remember that Wallace Waynwood is betrothed to Arya Stark. The mountain clans for one, House Cerwyn for another. And there is always the chance that House Karstark will emerge from the woodwork to claim the will as well. With these powerful houses backing him, Waynwood will far more support than Bolton or myself could ever hope to gain or have. We will need to wait for the two of them to fight it out, before we can go north and sweep up the wreckage.”

“Or we could simply take Waynwood now before he can march north and cause trouble for Bolton.” Cersei says.

Tyrion sighs then and says. “Not knowing where he is or how many men he has around him? That sister is a kin to suicide. No it is better to wait and see.”

Before his sister can respond, their father speaks then. “Tyrion speaks sense. Now we shall need to think on who shall replace Jaime as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Loras could be a very good candidate as could Balon Swann, the others leave something to be desired. I shall present the options to his grace on the morrow. For now though, Lord Mace have you had word from Lord Redwyne?”

The Lord of Highgarden nods his head and says. “Aye my lord hand I have. Lord Redwyne and the Redwyne fleet shall soon be at Dragonstone, they were joined by the Velaryon fleet led by one Aurane Waters. It seems that Stannis will be left high and dry soon enough.”

Tyrion sees his father nod. “That is good,” Lord Tywin says. “Once Stannis is dealt with, we can turn our attention to the Riverlands and making Brynden Tully see sense. Until next time, that is all.”

As he leaves, Tyrion wonders how he’s supposed to break it to his wife that her brother had given her up for lost before he died. One thing after the other, he is surprised Sansa has lasted for so long.


	16. The Girl Who Got Left Behind

**Princess Arya Stark**

Before the war had come to Westeros, life had been simple, and though there had been times when she had worried that her own lack of certain skills had meant that her parents preferred Sansa to her, she had lived quite a happy and content life. She had had safety and security and she had known that she was loved, even if she had  resented Sansa somewhat they had cared for one another and their lives had been somewhat safe and loving. And then the king had come to Winterfell and taken father and Sansa away from Winterfell, and everything had gone to hell. Someone had tried to attack Bran and mother when Bran had been asleep, and then father had been attacked and later executed by that brat Joffrey, and Sansa had been held prisoner in the Red Keep. Robb had called his banners and marched south to free father and Sansa and later, when father had been killed, Arya knew that Robb would not come back until Joffrey’s head adorned a spike and Sansa was safely away from King’s Landing. News of his victories in the south had caused quite a commotion in the north, with everyone cheering on the man they called the Young Wolf, and Arya had felt proud, so very, very proud. And then Theon had come to Winterfell with those Ironborn scum, and he had betrayed Robb and taken Winterfell. She knew that in order for him to consolidate his hold over Winterfell he would need to wed her, or try and subdue her or something of the sort, and so plans had been made for her to escape. Bran and Rickon were supposed to stay behind for the time being, but then Ser Rodrik had come back from Torrhen’s Square with men to free Winterfell, and when Ramsay Snow the bastard of the Dreadfort had come with men, Arya had thought they would be safe, instead Bolton’s bastard betrayed them and killed Bran and Rickon a sight Arya never wanted to relive again, but something she saw again and again every single day.

Torn in half by her brothers deaths, she had not know where to go, she fled Winterfell in the chaos that had come following the sack of Winterfell, and she wandered through the Wolfswood wandering through the north until she remembered something she had heard her father once tell Robb and Jon and Wallace. “The mountain clans are loyal to us, we have ruled the north since anyone can remember, but in days past the mountain clans sheltered Stark lords when the Boltons proved troublesome, and for that we have always paid them the respect they deserve. Your great grandmother was a First Flint, and the First Flints have always been our staunchest allies in the mountains.” And so remembering this she had made her way through the Wolfswood towards the mountains, where by luck she stumbled across a group of mountain clansmen who said they were First Flints, she had told them who she was and they had immediately looked at her like she was some sort of princess, and they had taken her to where the First Flints made their home, and presented her to her great grandmother and namesake.  Arya Flint had been wed to her great grandfather Rodrik Stark the Wandering Wolf, and as a child growing up Arya had often heard many stories about her namesake, her ferocity and her bravery, the woman she met was old beyond comprehension perhaps as old as Old Nan, and yet there was still some fire there and some of the steel that had won her the heart of the Wandering Wolf.  Her great grandmother, spoke very little but her actions spoke more than any words could, she made sure Arya was always safe and that she was able to pursue her martial training with Needle. Her cousin, Edrick Flint was a strong man, big and broad shouldered, and a fine fighter, he was the Flint, the clan leader of the First Flints, and many of them seemed to be terrified of him, though he always bowed to their great grandmother’s judgement.

As it was when news of the Red Wedding had come to the Flint Cove, Arya had been completely destroyed she had wanted to give up the fight, the grip on her sanity had begun fading, through the pain and grief she had felt. Robb and her mother, her last two family members left to her that she might have been able to reach properly, killed by Walder Frey and the other Freys, Guest Right broken. There had been a lot of angry words exchanged the day that news had come and Arya had been there, realising that she was now the Queen of the North, that or Wallace her betrothed was, though she had no idea where he was. “Your Grace? Arya?” her cousin Bennard’s voice brought her from her thoughts. She looked at him questioningly. “They are waiting for you in the tent Arya.”

Arya nodded and followed her cousin into the command tent where she found her cousin and the Flint Edrick sat round a table along with some of the other clan chiefs. Lord Hugo Wull a big man, Lord Brandon Norrey a short man but one who had a fiercesome reputation, Cregan Harclay the fiercest fighter in the mountains, Desmond Liddle and Donnor Burley. Edrick spoke then his voice deep and booming within the tent. “Now that her grace is here, we may begin. With King Robb’s death, the north is in chaos, we know not where Wallace Waynwood is, but it would not be wrong to think that he would be in the Neck with the cranongmen aiding him. With that assumption we also know that the Karstarks and the Glovers and Mormonts shall be aiding him as well to get past Moat Cailin undetected. As to Roose Bolton and those bloody Freys, well they shall have to struggle past Moat Cailin and the squids that reside there. But they are not our problem now. Our problem is how to reconquer Winterfell and take it from whatever scum are currently residing there. And for that we must take Deepwood Motte back from the Squids.”

“Aye that would send a strong signal to all those who feel that the Starks are done. We must retake it and from what my boys have been saying the squids have very few men left to hold the place. What with the lady squid having left to go and contest her father’s crown at their kingsmoot or whatever it is called. We attack now and we shall have the castle and the men to stake out a further campaign.” Brandon Norrey said.

Desmond Liddle a seemingly cautious man Arya has learnt speaks then. “Aye we can attack now, with our men and women ready. But do we know how much strength the Ironborn truly have, and with there being Ironborn still at Torrhen’s Square, how are to know that they won’t send for help before we have even begun firing the arrows at them? We have to be cautious about this. It is all well and good trying to send a sign that the Starks are not done, and I agree that we need to move quickly, but move too quickly and we will break.”

Hugo Wull speaks then. “Has the fire gone out of your blood Liddle? We are men of the mountains not one of those pansy shoving southerners that need to consider every bloody angle before we attack. We have an opening now, an opening that might not last forever, we must act on it and we must retake Deepwood Motte now before Bolton or the Ironborn know what is happening. Retake the Motte and House Glover and their bannermen will owe us for some time.”

Donnor Burley speaks then, his voice soft and measured. “Aye we must attack now, and we must go all out or not bother attacking at all. The Ironborn will have less than some 200 men, we have 3,000 here now. We attack now and we get a foothold in the north and we are in a position to attract more support.”

More murmurs of agreement come up from the clan chiefs and their second in commands; Edrick turns to her then and asks. “Your Grace, being that it is for you we are planning on waging this war. When would you wish for us to march now, or when the cows come home?”

Arya is silent for a moment and then she sees Bran and Rickon’s faces mounted on spikes above Winterfell’s walls and she says grimly. “Now, we take the Motte then Torrhen’s Square and then we shall end Bolton’s Bastard.”


	17. The Girl Who Was Forgotten

**Lady Sansa Lannister**

Every day that she woke up and stared at herself in the mirror, she was reminded of who she was and what she had done to arrive at this point in her life. Her betrayal of her father had gotten her stuck in King’s Landing whilst her father was killed, for a crime she was sure he had not committed, and Robb and her mother had paid the price for her betrayal with their lives just as Bran and Rickon had. All of it was enough to overwhelm her at times, and on occasion she would go to the godswood of the red keep and cry and cry and ask for forgiveness for the sins she had committed. And as if to rub salt in her wounds, the gods did not listen and instead they had seen fit to wed her to a Lannister, Tyrion Lannister, the least bad of them all but still a Lannister, when there had been a chance that she could have wed Willas Tyrell and become sisters in name and blood of with Margaery. Married life was something she no longer looked forward to or even liked, she found it to be a noose around her neck that was growing tighter by the day, by the hour even. There was some desire for an heir from her and yet her husband did not wish to bed her, on some level she was, but on another she was not, for she knew that the longer he refused to bed her, the longer she had to endure the torment of knowing that she was only being kept alive for that purpose there were times when the darkness threatened to take over that she wished she could have the child and then close her eyes and never wake up again.

And then there were times that she would feel so bad about those thoughts, Arya was still alive, she knew that now, the mountain clans had rallied behind her sister and taken Deepwood Motte from the Ironborn and were supposedly marching on Torrhen’s Square with Arya leading the charge. Tyrion had told her that, and she had felt both worried and proud of her sister for doing something to help keep their family alive. And then Tyrion had told her the next piece of news that he had had to, and her happiness had been crushed. For she had learnt that before he had died, Robb had created a will in which he had named Wallace Waynwood their cousin and foster brother, his heir, completely disinheriting Sansa, due to her marriage to Tyrion. In that moment she had felt both lost, and hurt by her brother’s decision, that he had given her up for a lost cause without ever trying to come and save her like he had always promised he would when they were children, and at the same time she had felt some resentment towards Wallace for being named heir and for taking away her rights from her. After sometime though, she had had thought it through and thought that Robb had made a smart move, at least this way someone who knew how the north was to be run, could run the north, and it would not fall into Lannister hands or even Bolton hands, though Jon was wed to Lyarra Bolton and that was something that puzzled her.

A touch on her arm brought her from her dreams. “My lady are you quite alright?” Her husband asked his mismatched eyes looking at her with some intensity.

Tyrion had clearly had a lot to drink. “I am quite well thanking you my lord. I am just not feeling all that hungry is all. There are a lot of courses and I do not think my stomach can handle it all.”

“Ah I see,” Her husband said. “Well then, I suppose we had best get moving then, there will be much more activity before the night is through, if I remember my sister correctly.” And so they both stood up ready to leave, her husband sopping wet from where Joffrey had spilt the wine on him.

As they got up though, Joffrey drunkenly hailed them. “Uncle where are you going? You’re my cupbearer remember?”

Her husband looked like he could kill at that moment, but his voice was perfectly calm when he replied. “I need to change into fresh garb, Your Grace. May I have your leave?”

“No. I like the look of you this way. Serve me my wine.” Was Joffrey’s drunken response.

The king’s chalice was on the table where he had left it, Sansa watched with a mixture of fear and pity as her husband had to climb back onto his chair to reach it. Joffrey, the cruel boy that he was, yanked it from Tyrion’s hands and drank long and deep, his throat working as the wine ran purple down his chin. “My lord,” Sansa heard her friend say. “we should return to our places. Lord Buckler wants to toast us.”

“My uncle hasn’t eaten his pigeon pie.” Holding the chalice one handed, Joff jammed his other into Tyrion’s pie. “It’s ill luck not to eat the pie,” he scolded as he filled his mouth with hot spiced pigeon. “See it’s good.” Spitting out flakes of crust, he coughed and helped himself to another fistful. “Dry though. Needs washing down.” Joff took a swallow of wine and coughed again more violently.

It was then that Sansa realised what was about to happen a few moments before it did,  Joffrey continued speaking and spluttering, but the moment it became apparent to everyone else, there was a great commotion as people rushed forward to try and save him. Sansa used the commotion, to discreetly get out of her chair and using the crowd to her advantage, she ran out of the hall, and continued running until she had left the Keep proper. With the royal wedding happening everything was focussed on the king and his new bride, not on some girl who had been declared a traitor. She kept running until she reached the godswood, where she found Ser Dontos. Just as she reached him, the bells began to toll signalling Joffrey’s death. “Ah my sweet Jonquil,” Ser Dontos purred, the wine evident on his breath. “I knew would come. It has been done, Joffrey the ill born is dead. Killed by the widow’s wail, and now he shall rot in the seven hells. But now we must get you home.”

Sansa nods and then they walk out of the keep at a quick pace towards the port, only as they reach the port does she remember what her Florian had said. “Did you know Joffrey would die Ser Dontos? And if so, how could you know he would die?”

“My friend told me that it would happen. Besides it was all in the amethysts that you wore. The wail of the widow of the north. Oh they could write a song about it all. But the imp will get the blame and will die.” Ser Dontos replies drunkenly.

“So you used me to kill Joffrey?” Sansa asks, more curious than angry.

“I did not use you, you consented when you agreed to the plan. That is what my friend said.” Ser Dontos says drunkenly.

And with that they stop talking and make their way over to the ladder, Sansa tries to protest but she is overridden and holding on for dear life she makes her way down to the boat where again they sail in silence until coming to another larger boat, where Ser Dontos whispers. “I have brought her as you asked.”

“I can see that my friend, now how much was it you asked for? A hundred thousand dragons was it not?” The voice replies.

“Yes my lord” Ser Dontos replies.

“Well then it would be rude not to pay you back, Lothor.” The voice replies.

And then two arrows appear out of the dark and strike Ser Dontos in the chest knocking him from the boat. The voice appears again. “Sansa, sweetling come up the ladder, we don’t want you hanging down there for too long.” And in the light, Sansa sees Lord Baelish looking down smiling at her.


	18. Got The Time

**Jon Snow**

The first real battle that Jon had fought in had been at Moat Cailin. In order to allow his goodfather and his men back into the north the Ironborn that had been left by Victarion Greyjoy at the Moat needed to be removed. And so Jon had sent ravens out across the north calling in Bolton’s bannermen, as well as to House Ryswell and House Dustin, and men had come marching to aid them. The battle itself had been short and fierce, the Ironborn though they were greatly overmatched put up a strong resistance, and Jon had watched with a mixture of admiration and annoyance as his own men had been cut down before his eyes. Eventually they had managed to overwhelm the Ironborn and their leader, a man known simply as Bones was brought before Jon and executed for crimes against the rightful Warden of the North. Saying that title about Roose Bolton just felt strange to Jon, for so long his own father had been the Warden of the North that giving Roose Bolton that title just did not sit right with him. The fact that Bolton’s party had been made up mostly of Freys as well, those same people who had helped kill Robb and all those other northmen at the Twins had greatly infuriated Jon and had made him start to suspect that his goodfather had played a part in his brother’s downfall.

Of course he could not do anything about it just yet, after all Lyarra was still with child and Jon intended to live to see his son or daughter born. He had not survived Ramsay Snow’s attempts to bring down the Dreadfort just to die at the hands of the viper that Roose Bolton clearly was. Ramsay Snow had made good on his threat to storm the Dreadfort, and Jon had ordered the men on the walls to fire arrows at Snow and his men, killing most of them and injuring the rest. Ramsay Snow the mad bastard had tried scaling the walls directly next to the main keep, Jon had taken great pleasure in firing the arrows that had set the bastard alight, and had watched with some savage pleasure as the man who had killed his brothers and hounded his wife died by arrow fire. It was something he felt Arya would thank him for when they eventually got a chance to meet once more. He had heard of what his sister and her mountain tribesmen had accomplished at Deepwood Motte, defeating the garrison there, taking the Keep and winning the Glovers’ fealty to Arya as Queen in the North. Last Jon had heard before he had marched for Winterfell alongside his own men and those of Roose Bolton’s his sister and her men had managed to take Torrhen’s Square back as well, leaving her in somewhat of a strong position to make a claim on Winterfell, or rather the ruin it had become.

Of course when news had come of Arya’s achievements, he was under no suspicion what most of the Bolton and Frey men thought of him, and so when Roose Bolton asked to speak with him, he largely suspected that the talk would be about his sister and his commitment to the Bolton cause. As he entered the room that had once been his father’s solar and now was Roose Bolton’s he could not help the anger that boiled inside of him, as he saw the man sitting in his father’s chair. Roose Bolton looked up from whatever papers he was reading and said in that soft voice of his. “Ah Jon, sit down why don’t you. Have something to eat and drink. I know it will be sometime before lunch is served.” Once Jon was seated and had taken something to eat and had a drink, Roose Bolton continued speaking. “I trust you are enjoying married life? I hope Lyarra has not bored you yet, my daughter can oftentimes be quite reserved and quiet. And I know that young men such as yourself often prefer liveliness and joviality above wits and brains.”

Jon was silent for a moment before he said. “I am quite content in my marriage to your daughter my lord. Lyarra and I, we are happy, very much so. There is no one else I would rather be with.”

Bolton looked at him for a long moment and then said softly. “That is good. I know that you broke your vows to the Watch in order to marry her and protect her from her half brother Ramsay. That was very chivalrous of you, risking your neck and life for a woman you had not seen since you were both fourteen. A good thing you were the king’s brother, and that the king was in the south otherwise you would have faced a death of that we are both sure.”

Jon looks at his goodfather and says simply. “I am sure Robb would have done what was right when the matter came to his attention to solve. But that is neither here nor there. After all my brother is dead, and the boy king in the south has named you Warden of the North. I am sure that is not why you asked me here is it my lord?”

Roose Bolton smiled then, or what might amount to a smile for him. “Very observant Lord Snow. Very observant. You are right of course; I am not here to scold you for doing something that any decent human would have done in your position. Ramsay was a mad dog who needed to be put down, and that he has been put down now will make me rest a lot easier. But of course that is not the sole reason why I have asked you here, no, with our friends of Frey here in Winterfell, and considering all that happened at the Twins during Lord Edmure’s wedding, there is tension here, a lot of tension that could play into our enemies’ hands. I am asking you is that in light of your sister’s victories at Deepwood Motte and Torrhen’s Square, where does your loyalty lie? With a house that never recognised you for the person you are? Or with the woman who will bear your children and is your wife by the grace of the gods?”

Jon is silent for a long moment thinking over what Bolton has said, knowing that he shall need to tread very carefully. Eventually he takes a breath and then says. “I am loyal to Lyarra and our unborn child my lord. I will do whatever it takes to make sure that they remain safe and secure. I will not betray them nor abandon them. Not as the Starks did to myself when it suited them. I will stick behind my wife and our child through thick and thin. Of that you may be certain my lord.”

Roose Bolton nodded and said. “That is good, now there is one more thing that I have to discuss with you. Stannis Baratheon has landed at Widow’s Watch and is attempting to gain the support of Wyman Manderly, now though the man is fat and old, he is no craven, we must have his support if we are to secure our hold over the north. I want you to go White Harbour with around 500 men, and remind Wyman Manderly to whom it is that he owes his place in the north to, not some southerner that worships a foreign god, but to the very north that welcomed him with open arms. Do that for me, and we shall talk about what else you might be able to do for me.”


	19. Desperate Times

**Ser Donnel Waynwood**

The Vale had been at boiling point for a good year and a half before his marriage to Lysa. There had been tension amongst the different lords, some of whom wanted to join the Young Wolf in fighting against the Lannisters and wanted to break away from the Iron Throne and reclaim their independence, foremost amongst the lords and ladies leading that group were Donnel’s own mother and the ever formidable Lord Yohn Royce. Then there was the group led by Ser Lyn Corbray who wished to remain part of the Seven Kingdoms and simply wanted to wait out the storm that had engulfed Westeros following the death of Eddard Stark, and see what terms and conditions they could squeeze out of whoever emerged victorious. Amongst all of this, Donnel had watched with some admiration as his wife had kept the Vale neutral for the longest possible time, doing all she could to protect her son and his people, keeping the Bloody Gate closed and shut to all else and sundry. And then Baelish had come, the snake that had done all he could to remove Donnel’s mother from the world. Donnel knew that his wife and Baelish had been friends in their youth and that she had thought fondly of him, and so the man had used that influence to gain friends and allies amongst the lesser lordlings in the Vale, in some sort of attempt to wed Lysa Arryn. Of course by that point Donnel had already wed her, his courtship being quite successful, and given that his wife seemed to care for him, it was not all that hard for him to turn her against Baelish, by whispering into her ear that he wanted to take her son Robert away from her.

 His wife was a sweet woman, who cared deeply for her son, sometimes to the point of extremity, though Donnel had found that speaking to her about her son and how he could grow in the Vale with some guidance, had won him her respect and admiration more than anything else. Courting his wife had been an interesting process, his wife he had learnt was somewhat of a romantic at heart and so the ancient tools of chivalry and flattery worked well on her, and that she was not as mad as he had first feared made it all that easier to court her and be genuine in it. Their relationship considering the age gap between the two of them, was somewhat caring and friendly, they were able to speak of various things, such as politics or music, as well as speaking about Robert and how he could become the best lord possible for the Vale. That she was with child as well was an added bonus, something that simply made him even happier that he was wed to her, for she would make a very good mother, she was a very good mother, even if she could be bit too clingy at times.

Of course with Baelish in the Vale, Donnel had made sure to keep a close eye on the man and to keep news of his wife’s pregnancy to a minimum only telling his mother and Bronze Yohn Royce, more people would be told once they could suss out Baelish and his true motives. It was for that purpose that Donnel had asked to meet with the man in the solar where Jon Arryn had once sat and ruled the Vale. Donnel looked across at Baelish who was sat in the chair opposite his, the man was short and had a shifty look about him and so, Donnel knew to phrase his words carefully when he spoke. “So my lord, how have you found your stay in the Vale so far? I trust you have accomplished all that needed to be done with regards to your work with the crown?”

Baelish was silent for a moment before he smiled a smile that Donnel truly did not like. “Yes my lord, all has been good and it has been nice visiting the Vale once more. I had not been here for some time, and now that I have come back I find myself wondering whether or not it would be prudent to remain in the Vale for the foreseeable future. After all the King and his council do not expect me back anytime soon, so why not stay here for a little while and resume some of my old duties?”

“And what duties would these be then Lord Baelish?” Donnel asks. “For if I remember correctly, you started off as a customs official in Gulltown making sure that the Graftons did not pocket too much of the gold that came in from customs there. Of course Ser Gyles Redfort is doing that duty now, and as such all is well in the Vale. Myself and Lady Lysa have made sure that all is working and in order in the Vale. Therefore I cannot truly think what we could need you for.”

The man smiles still and his next words are laced with some sort of sweet venom. “Oh I am sure Lady Lysa could find some sort of use for me. After all when her husband was away in King’s Landing those many years ago, she found plenty of use for me, be in Gulltown or here in the Eyrie itself. And with the climb down to the Gates of the Moon soon to begin, I am sure you will need someone there who knows what is what with regards to the Gates and the accounts and such. After all King’s Landing is still not sure where your allegiances lie my lord.”

“And what do you mean by that my lord? And if you were to come to the Gates of the Moon with young Robert and Lady Lysa, would your bastard daughter Alayne be coming with you? After all we will need all the extra pair of hands that we can get.” Donnel replies.

Baelish is silent for a long moment and then says. “All I mean is that with your brother Wallace fighting the Boltons in the north and with your other brother Morton fighting alongside him, and with your mother’s continued support for the man and his cause, those in King’s Landing are beginning to wonder if the Vale will side with the rebels. If you had me working closely with yourself and Lady Lysa I could make it so that the doubts of those in King’s Landing completely disappear.”

Donnel takes a sip of wine, and then asks Baelish. “And what would you want in return for this service?”

Before Baelish can reply, Donnel begins coughing feeling as if his throat is on fire, he begins sputtering and then reaching for the wine that seems out of reach. His vision blurry, he sees Baelish standing up then, his voice sounds far away when the man says. “Oh I wouldn’t ask for too much my lord. Just the hand of Lysa Arryn in marriage, and the Lord Protectorship of the Vale. Now you go and die quietly, there’s a good boy.”

Donnel’s eyes close and when he awakes, he is in bed and Lysa is standing over him, concern evident in her eyes. “What...what happened?” he manages to rasp.

Lysa sits on the bed next to him and says softly. “You passed out in your solar Donnel. Ser Errold came and found me when you hadn’t been seen in the practice yard. You were slumped with a cup of wine spilt everywhere around you. What happened my love?”

“Where is Baelish?” Donnel asks.

“Petyr?” Lysa asks confused. “He left after your conversation, I haven’t seen him since.”

Donnel fixes his wife with a iron stare, that his mother said he inherited from his father, and in as serious a voice as he can muster he says. “Lysa, it was Baelish who did this to me. There was poison in the wine I drank. He wanted to knock me out so that he could take you for himself.”

Before Lysa can respond there is a knock on the door and Maester Coleman walks in. “My apologies for the interruption my lord, my lady. But Alayne Stone wishes to speak with the both of you, she says it is of grave importance.”

“Show her in, she might have useful information on Baelish.” Donnel says.

Sure enough the girl enters, twisting her hands nervously; she walks in and says quickly. “I have a confession to make my lord, my lady. Petyr Baelish introduced me as his bastard daughter, but I am not his daughter nor will I ever want to be his daughter. I am Sansa Stark, daughter of Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn Stark. Sister to Robb Stark and Arya Stark. I am here to ask for your protection from the Lannisters and from Lord Baelish.”

Silence and then Lysa turns to Donnel and then says. “Any child of Cat’s is welcome here in the Eyrie. We shall do all we can to protect you from those dreadful Lannisters sweetling. You shall be safe here.”

Donnel nods and then asks. “Now what do you know of what Baelish planned to do in the Vale, and do you know where he could have gone?”


	20. Sleep With A Gun

**King Wallace I Waynwood**

Moat Cailin had always impressed Wallace, it might be just a pale shadow of what it had once been, back in the days before the Andals had come to Westeros, but it was still quite an impressive thing to behold. It was a shame that it had been held by Bolton men, men sworn to a man who had betrayed Robb and the north as a whole. It was there that Wallace after three moons of planning, waiting out the shocking news of Robb’s death at his uncle’s wedding, and news of Joffrey the illborn’s wedding and death and then Jon clearing out the Ironborn from Moat Cailin. It was at Moat Cailin that Wallace had decided to announce himself. When news of the red wedding had reached them at Greywater Watch Wallace had been shocked and heartbroken, he had loved Robb like a brother and his death had crushed him. It was there and then that the cranongmen following Lord Howland Reed’s lead declared their loyalty to him, along with those men under the command of Rickard Karstark as well as Galbart Glover and Maege Mormont. With a total of some 2,000 men they had ridden north for the Moat and had given the garrison of the Moat a tough battle, coming extremely close to winning only for a snow storm to come and interrupt their progress and force them to retreat back to the swamps, and lead to the first battle of his campaign to end in defeat. The defeat was frustrating but it was not the end of it all, for Howland Reed proved his loyalty once more by showing them ways in which to circumvent the Moat without ever coming into its sight, and so though they were beaten they ended up back in the north proper camped in the Barrowlands, where they had met up with Wallace’s brother Morton who came with the 300 men their mother had sent.

There were things happening both in the north and in the south and so Wallace had deemed it appropriate to call a war council before they moved onto Winterfell. The men and woman in attendance included, Wallace’s brother Ser Morton their mother’s heir, Lord Rickard Karstark a man hardened and scarred by war and the loss of his two sons Eddard and Torrhen, Galbart Glover who seemed invigorated by the return of his keep from the Ironborn, Lady Maege Mormont ever a staunch ally and friend, Lord Howland Reed silent and observant and finally a man barely anyone had heard from since Robert’s Rebellion some seventeen years previously Artos Snow the bastard of the north elusive and famous at the same time and a giant of a man. Wallace spoke then. “My lords, my lady. We all know why we are here, so long as Roose Bolton holds Winterfell, our campaign to right the wrongs done to us by the south and the Iron Throne will be on the back burner. It is not all doom and gloom though, we all know my betrothed Princess Arya has with the help of the mountain clans reclaimed Deepwood Motte and Torrhen’s Square from the Ironborn. But I do not know where Bolton truly is nor what he plans to do. Artos have you had any luck finding this out?”

Artos Snow was a big man, but he was not dumb by any means, he took his time to speak but when he did all perked up with interest. “Aye I did indeed Your Grace. My boys learned that Roose Bolton sent Jon Snow to go to White Harbour to bring Wyman Manderly the fat Lord to heel and remind him where his loyalties lie. Stannis Baratheon it appears has landed in the north to get more support for his claim to the southerners throne, and attempts to bring Manderly in with promises of riches and gold. As to where Bolton himself has gone, I believe he has gone back to the Dreadfort, his daughter is expecting and I believe he wishes to be there for the birth himself. He has left Roger Ryswell in charge of the garrison at Winterfell.”

Wallace nods and then asks. “What of the Freys who came north with Bolton, where are they Winterfell or the Dreadfort?”

Artos is silent for a long moment before he replies. “My scouts say that half of the Frey party left with Roose Bolton under the command of Aenys Frey, whilst the other half remained in Winterfell under the command of the idiot Hosteen Frey. Bolton also has gotten Hothar Umber and half of the Umber strength with him, whilst Mors Umber remains in Last Hearth walled up there refusing to move.”

Wallace nods and then says. “Very well, that means then that Roger Ryswell will have the whole strength of the Rills and Barrowtown with him, and whatever men the Cerwyns sent him. With the mountain clans and the majority of what was left of the strength of Deepwood Motte and Torrhen’s Square now sworn to Arya, we would be idiots not to meet with her at  half way point and move from there. Now where would be good for such a meeting?”

It is then that Galbart Glover speaks. “Meeting at Torrhen’s Square would make the most sense Your Grace. For it gives us a solid base of operations and a means by which to clearly asses the strengths of the forces that her grace has managed to gather around her. Plus it also means that a marriage might take place so that the two factions are properly united behind you.”

Wallace nods and says. “Very well we shall march for Torrhen’s Square on the morrow. I want word sent ahead, so that they know to expect us.”

Five days later they arrive at Torrhen’s Square, and when Wallace sees Arya standing there in the courtyard waiting for him, his heart does a little leap, he had never thought to see her again, and he dismounts from his horse and laughs with joy when she practically throws herself at him, hugging him. “Hello to you too Arya Underfoot.” He says stroking her hair, which surprisingly is loose and neat.

They spend some time getting reacquainted with one another, and then Wallace decides that a war council needs be convened. And the lords who came with him, plus the lords sworn to Arya are sat in the lord’s solar and with Arya sat by his side Wallace speaks. “We now have some 4000 men here, with our combined strength. Roger Ryswell will have no more than 1000 men, and yet Winterfell will not fall all that easily. The way Theon Greyjoy took the castle was pure chance, and Roger Ryswell is no fool. We shall need to send out the van to lead some of his men out and trap them in the snow.”

Edrick Flint, the leader of the First Flints speaks then his voice gruff. “Who will lead the van Your Grace?”

Wallace is silent for a moment before he looks at Arya who nods, and then he turns back to Flint and says. “You shall have that honour. Break their defences for me, and I shall repay you when the time comes.”

After that various things are discussed about the battle that is to come, and before the meeting ends Wallace says. “When we hold Winterfell, I shall have my coronation and shall wed Arya, the sooner we can end any chance Bolton has of using Jon Snow as a thorn against us the better. I shall also take the name Stark to make things that much harder for him.”

The next morning they march for Winterfell, Edrick Flint leading the charge with some 1,000 men under his command in the Vanguard. Wallace controls the left, Rickard Karstark the right and Galbart Glover the reserve. As they march Wallace tries to keep whatever nerves he feels at bay, another battle, and a chance for victory, reclaim Winterfell and the north will come flocking away from the Boltons and their lies. When Winterfell comes into sight, Edrick Flint roars a command and his mountain clansmen go charging off into the snow and from the distance Wallace can hear the sound of fighting waging. He waits a few heartbeats before raising his own sword and bellowing for his men to charge.

The battle is fierce and quick, Wallace swings his sword left, right and centre, bringing men down with him as he goes, cutting, hacking and slashing, painting the snow red with the blood of the fallen foe. On he goes, pushing into the castle with sheer force, hacking, slashing and cutting, ducking and dodging. He brings more and more men down, even as he himself feels his armour getting cut and dented in a variety of places and still he pushes on. Swinging and swinging, and hacking and slashing, on he goes, on and on he goes, he will not give up, not now.

He swings his sword once, twice, thrice and then a fourth time and watches as more and more men fall down to their knees or to their deaths. He kills one, two, then three men bearing the Two Towers of House Frey and he feels as though he is paying them back for Robb. Thunder tears out the throats of many a man, snarling as he does so, they enter Winterfell and fight in the courtyard, swinging and cutting men down, using the space and the years they trained to their advantage and soon enough the battle ends when Roger Ryswell is brought before him in chains. “Roger Ryswell, it seems you have lost this battle. Will you surrender the castle to your rightful king?” Wallace asks.

Ryswell is a shadow of what he had been the last time Wallace had seen him, either that or Wallace is no longer that innocent little boy who had been so impressed by the big giant who had come to speak with Lord Eddard. The man speaks softly. “Yes....Your Grace. Winterfell is yours I relinquish it.”

Wallace nods and then says. “Take him to one of the cells, I don’t want to see him for a long time now.” With that he waits for everything to settle down and then he raises his sword in the air and shouts. “We have gotten Winterfell back from the liars. But we shall not have peace until they are all dead. For King Robb, for Lord Eddard, for the North we shall fight!” A roar and then Wallace nods and waits for his betrothed to come home.


	21. A Lion, A Lion

**Lord Tywin Lannister**

The past six moons had been littered with events that had threatened to tear the legacy he had worked so hard to create apart. First there was Joffrey’s death at his own wedding, which whilst ridding him of someone who could have been very bothersome and a threat to the stability of the realm in the long term, had caused unprecedented levels of tension within what was left of his family. Tywin had had his suspicions as to who had actually had his grandson poisoned, but if he were to go through with these suspicions then their alliance with the Tyrells would fall through and it would be very likely that another war would break out in King’s Landing and that was something he did not want to happen. Hence when his daughter accused Tyrion, the dwarf of a son the gods had seen fit to curse him with, though he knew that the boy had not done the deed, Tywin had latched onto the idea and decided to take the whole ordeal to trial. His daughter in her grief had seemed convinced that it was Tyrion who was responsible for her son’s death, she was too blinded by her grief to see the truth right in front of her eyes, and so as she brought witness after witness to testify against her brother, Tywin worked on some of these witnesses to make sure they knew that their testimony needed to be believable in some parts but unbelievable in others. And so when Tyrion demanded trial by combat, there was some part of Tywin that was relieved, as it happened without the Mountain alive anymore and with Jaime dead, Cersei chose Ser Meryn Trant as her champion and with the Red Viper fighting for Tyrion the contest was so short lived it could perhaps be seen as an insult. Of course that victory mean Tyrion was now innocent behind all the lands of the law, and yet Cersei continued to pursue Tyrion and so Tywin hoping to avoid conflict within his family named Tyrion castellan of the Rock and sent him backing off to the Westerlands.

It seemed that the problems that had plagued his family since Joanna had died all those years ago were coming back to haunt him. His eldest son was dead, slain by the Blackfish the minute word had come to Riverrun of the Red Wedding, with Jaime dead there had been a vacancy on the Kingsguard one that had been filled by one Ser Parmen Crane a man who had fought loyally during the Battle of the Blackwater and a man with proven skill with a blade and a clever head on his shoulders. Still Jaime’s death haunted Tywin in a way he had thought nothing ever would after Joanna’s death. Cersei had become very unstable following Joffrey’s death, and though he was highly tempted to either marry her off and have her produce more children, or even head back to the Rock, he was not sure that either of those moves would benefit the family as much as he had first thought, and so she remained in King’s Landing brewing and stewing. As to the dwarf, after so many years denying his existence beyond when he had to, Tywin was coming to realise that perhaps the boy was actually quite useful, he was smart and cunning and though he drank and whored far too much, he did seem to be a good enough heir for the Rock now that Jaime was dead.

Regardless of the turmoil going in on in the family he had a kingdom to run and as such had called a council meeting. Kevan as master of laws, Mace Tyrell as master of ships, Baelish who had returned unsuccessful from the Vale as master of coin, Grand Maester Pycelle and Master of Whispers Lord Varys. Tywin spoke then. “I will not waste time giving you all the reasons for why we are here. You know just as well as I do why we are here, there is still a war waging on in the Riverlands, and there has been some action in the north as well as the constant presence of the Vale looming large. I would hear what news there is from all of these areas and what you suggest we do about them.”

Lord Varys spoke then his voice soft as a whisper. “Well my little birds report that Roose Bolton is facing enemies from two sides. Wallace Waynwood and his bride Arya Stark combined forces at Torrhen’s Square and retook Winterfell from a garrison under the command of Roger Ryswell. Ryswell surrendered once it became apparent that defeat was imminent, and though Waynwood spared those northerners fighting for Ryswell, the Freys that were part of the garrison were all killed. This victory now means that Waynwood controls most of the north, with Deepwood Motte, Torrhen’s Square, the Neck and Winterfell and its surrounding holdfasts all having declared for Waynwood. The man has also named himself a Stark. Roose Bolton remains in the Dreadfort awaiting the birth of his grandchild, whilst Stannis Baratheon sits outside the castle laying siege to it withering away.”

Tywin nods and though it is not the news he wished to hear he says. “Very well then. We shall soon learn whether or not Bolton is worthy of the position he and his family have craved for centuries. With Stannis in the north, I am sure that soon enough he will either break or die in the attempt to take the Dreadfort which will mean far less pressure for us. Now as to Dragonstone, Lord Mace has there been any word from Lord Redwyne as to his progress there?”

Mace Tyrell was a great puff fish of a man who had insisted that Tommem and Margaery wed, and so they had as soon as Tyrion had left for the Rock. He cleared his voice and replied. “There has been my lord hand, in fact a raven arrived this morning from Lord Redwyne. After a bit of a struggle, he has managed to capture Dragonstone from whatever men were left behind by Stannis Baratheon to hold it. As such he now holds Selyse Florent and Shireen Baratheon hostage and awaits your command and what should be done with them.”

Tywin nodded. “That is very good. Now with them in our possession we can dictate terms to those left who are loyal to Stannis Baratheon. Now I would ask you to seal the final nail in the man’s coffin. Take Storm’s End from Stannis Baratheon, and your son Garlan might find himself in possession of a new Lordship very soon my lord. Now how progresses the siege of Riverrun?”

Kevan speaks then. “It drags on my lord. Ser Daven reports that the men are growing weary and tired and the Blackfish continues to hang out for winter it seems. Ryman Frey left the camp to go and deal with some bandits and never returned, his body was found hanging from a tree a few days later. His son Edwyn now wishes to return home, though it appears that he is too scared to leave for fear of what will happen when he does.”

“Send Ser Addam out from Harrenhal and instruct him to find this brigands and deal with them appropriately. Soon enough I might just have to march out to end this siege myself. The Blackfish can try to hold out as long as he wants, sooner or later his garrison will revolt against him and when they do we shall be there to pick up the pieces. Now what of the Faith what mutterings have there been around them?”

Varys speaks then his voice soft. “It appears that there has emerged a new leader amongst the sparrows my lord hand, this man has been preaching in the streets against King Tommem labelling him a boy born of incest and labelling him the result of all of our sins against the seven and all the gods known to man. He has developed quite a following though nothing more is known about him or where he came.”

Tywin nods and then says. “Find out what you can about him. I shall speak with the High Septon and get him to deal a blow to this fool in the streets, and if that does not work we shall remind him why he has legs to stand on after all.”


	22. Sword Of Damocles

**Queen Arya Stark**

She remembered the battle of Winterfell, how could she not with how bloody it had been, she had not been in the fray of the battle. Just as she had not been during the retaking of the Motte and Torrhen’s Square, but she had seen the fighting that raged all the same. She had heard the screams of the men as they had died, crying out for family that they would never see again, and when the battle was over and done, she had ridden through the remnants of it and seen the bodies and the blood that had filled the snow covered grounds near Winterfell in the Wolfswood and close to her home. Wallace had greeted her in the courtyard still caked in snow and blood, and had bowed before her and welcomed her home. She had hugged him then not caring about the snow or the blood that would cover her clothes; she had been desperately worried that he might perish during the fighting that seeing him whole and sound had been a huge relief.

Once the men had all settled in, and Wallace had seen to certain things, they had gotten married. It had been a rather quiet affair, from what Wallace had told her their bannermen had wanted. They had been wed in the godswood and had had a feast with what food they had brought with them from the Motte and from whatever was there in Winterfell. And once the feast was done they had all retired for the night, for Wallace had said beforehand that there would be no bedding ceremony, and so when she and Wallace had gotten into bed they had merely snuggled up to one another and slept. Though she would never say it aloud, Arya appreciated and maybe even loved Wallace for that one action, for she knew that as a king he was expected to sire heirs, quickly, and yet despite whatever pressure there might have been from the various lords, he had held onto their betrothal and then he had wed her but he had made sure she was comfortable with all that was happening. That their two direwolves Thunder and Nymeria liked each other was another good thing, for after all that had happened she was not sure she would trust anyone or anything Nymeria did not like.

The day after their wedding, with most of the guests hungover from the festivities, they had begun the long process of rebuilding Winterfell. With wood and mortar from Deepwood Motte and Torrhen’s Square and some material brought by the Mountain Clans they had managed to repair the outer walls of Winterfell so far and were now working on rebuilding the inner walls to a level that would make it hard for any intruders to scale them. There was also work being done on the glass gardens to ensure that some sort of sustenance could be had for the castle and its people throughout the long months of Winter. Wallace had also decided that the First Keep and the Broken Tower were to be rebuilt at some point, and were to house a slightly bigger household than what her parents had kept, simply to ensure better defences of the castle. Her husband had named several people to key positions within the castle, Rodrik Foote was named as the steward of Winterfell, whilst Roose Ryswell who had turned out to be their most loyal supporter was named as master of arms, and so on and so forth. There was still a lot to be done in the north as well, and so her husband had called a war council. Present at the council apart from Arya and her husband were, Lord Rickard Karstark who had become fiercely loyal to both her and her husband, Galbart Glover, Brandon Tallhart, Ser Kyle Condon, Ser Wylis Manderly and Edrick Flint, and the other chiefs of the mountain clans. Once they were all seated Wallace spoke his voice tired sounding. “I thank you all for remaining here in Winterfell for so long my lords. I know it must be very difficult for you all knowing what it is that we know. There are three main issues we must discuss, the siege of the Dreadfort, activities in the south and of course the Ironborn. We shall start with the Siege of the Dreadfort. Lord Karstark what news have you heard?”

Lord Karstark was silent for a long moment and then he spoke. “My uncle Arthor sent word with a rider who managed to navigate past both parties. It seems that Stannis Baratheon and his men are quickly losing their strength and their will. Baratheon has continued to throw most of his strength at the Dreadfort and Roose Bolton continues to thrown down whatever forces are sent at his walls. Baratheon will soon lose his men to hunger, death or desertion, and will be ripe for the taking.”

“Did your uncle mention whether Lord Wyman or any of his sworn lords had men present within Stannis Baratheon’s camp?” Arya asked.

Lord Karstark looked at her for a moment and then said. “Arthor said that Lord Wyman and his retainers were noticeable for their absence from Stannis Baratheon’s camp. So no they are not there Your Grace. And I do not think they will be present for a long time.”

Ser Wylis spoke then. “I knew my father would never betray Winterfell or the Starks Your Grace. He is a Stark man through and through and with this action he has proven it. He will never let the Boltons or Stannis Baratheon take what is rightfully yours from you. Neither shall I.”

Arya nodded and Wallace spoke then. “None doubted your family’s loyalty to our cause Wylis. With Stannis and his strength weakening by the day, we shall soon have to act, otherwise Bolton will grow stronger. We shall need to move out in roughly three days time, in full force and give battle to Stannis. As to how we make the Boltons surrender that is something I am not so sure about.”

There was quite a bit of discussion, before Arya spoke up. “Well we know that Lyarra Bolton is soon to give birth, and House Bolton is nearing extinction. Yet Roose Bolton will not surrender whilst Stannis Baratheon is still knocking on his front door. Remove Baratheon and I am sure there is a chance Bolton can be made to think like an actual parent for once.”

There was some murmuring at that and then Brandon Tallhart spoke his voice deep. “Aye that would be the case for most people. But Lord Bolton is not most people, he will remain in the Dreadfort and wait for us to bleed ourselves dry just as Lord Stannis has done. We must draw him out.”

Silence and then Wallace says. “That is something we shall figure out once we have dealt with Stannis Baratheon. For now though we must think on what is happening in the south. There was word from my brother, it seems the Bolton garrison in Moat Cailin has been suitably dealt with, I have asked Morton to bring his men and those under command of Maege Mormont back to Winterfell to garrison it once the force here leaves. Morton wrote that there was some very interesting news from the south at Moat Cailin.” Arya hears her husband pause and she waits with baited to breath to hear what the news is. He goes on. “It appears that Riverrun is still under siege and that the Lannister forces are steadily depleting either due to desertion or because of bandits picking them off one by one. It seems Lord Tywin asked Lord Bolton to send what aid he could. There has also been a raven from my brother Donnel, it seems we have found Sansa Stark.”

Arya gasps then and asks. “Where?” Sansa alive?

Wallace takes her hand under the table and says. “The Eyrie. It appears the viper that is Lord Baelish brought her there pretending she was his bastard daughter. Why Donnel knows not, but once Baelish fled the Vale, Sansa revealed herself to Donnel and to Lady Lysa and told them all she knew about what the man was planning. As of now Donnel and Lysa Arryn are keeping her identity hidden from all but Bronze Yohn Royce, and shall be working to get her marriage to the Imp annulled. And soon enough she shall be able to come home.”

Lord Karstark speaks then and Arya suspects he has ulterior motives for his words. “That is brilliant news. But for now we must focus on the Ironborn as well must we not Your Graces?”

Arya feels Wallace squeeze her hand, though his expression is blank when he says. “Indeed we must. Euron Greyjoy has been declared King, but his brother Victarion has rebelled against his older brother, whether for himself or for his niece Asha Greyjoy no one knows. But it is safe to say that the Ironborn will be causing no one any problems anytime soon.”

“Now if that is all that needs be discussed, I would like to be alone with my wife.” Wallace says then and the lords leave, once the last of them has gone Wallace turns to her and says. “Soon enough Sansa shall be home, and this war will end and we can be at peace again.”


	23. Counting Stars

**King Stannis I Baratheon**

The war had been going from bad to worse to nearly impossible. When he had fled King’s Landing for Dragonstone, he had done so with the knowledge that Jon Arryn had died most likely because of the fact that they had been about to tell Robert about Jaime and Cersei Lannister’s crimes, fearing for the safety of his wife and daughter he had left for Dragonstone and he had not left Dragonstone throughout the whole of Eddard Stark’s tenure as hand of the king. Looking back on it now, he realised that perhaps he should have answered one of Stark’s many ravens and come back to King’s Landing or at least explained in some manner or the other why he could not come back to King’s Landing. Perhaps if he had done that, Stark might still be alive and he might yet sit the throne, as with the north’s support the riverlands most definitely would have joined his cause and perhaps Renly would not have declared himself a king. Stannis had never been one for maybes and maybe not, and yet he knew that his coffin had been nailed shut when the men he had sent to bring Renly’s host to his own did not come back and the Blackwater happened.

Fleeing from the Blackwater still rankled him, and yet he had seen the sense in what his men had done, he had lived to fight another day. When Davos had returned to Dragonstone, beaten and broken, Stannis had listened as his onion knight spoke of the need to bring the north to side, when the Red Wedding happened Stannis knew then that that would be his last chance for the throne. He left Melisandre and his family at Dragonstone, he would not have it said he won his throne with the help of the priestess and he sailed for the north. It seemed to have been a wasted venture in all honesty, the northmen were too stubbornly loyal to the memory of a dead boy and the promise of freedom to openly accept him as their rightful king. Wyman Manderly had played court and host, but when the Freys had come knocking Stannis and his men had been sent packing. When the Stark girl had emerged from wherever it was she had been hiding and begun winning battles, the lords of the north shut shop and barred their doors and castles to him. Leaving him with only the 2,000 men he had brought from Dragonstone with which to lay siege to the Dreadfort.

For half a year they had laid siege to the Dreadfort, as winter had descended upon the north, the snows had destroyed morale and food supplies. Men had died, men had fled, and men had been burned alive to end the snow and the storm. Yet Roose Bolton held on and the siege continued, Stannis knew that either he would break first and his men would die, or his men would abandon him and he would die. Either way he was doomed, yet he could not just give up not yet, these were the thoughts that plagued him as his squire Devan shook him awake. “What is it?” he asked his voice gruff from sleep.

“Ser Godry Farring wishes to speak with you, Your Grace. He says the matter is most urgent.” Devan replied.

“Very well then, tell him I shall be with him shortly.” Stannis replied. He got up and got dressed into his royal attire, and then he walked out to see a grim faced Godry Farring standing waiting for him. “Ser Godry,” he said. “To what do you wish to speak about?”

Ser Godry was silent a long moment and then he said. “Our scouts returned finally Your Grace. They brought very, very bad tidings with them.”

“And what bad tidings could these be? Has Roose Bolton got another host hiding away somewhere in this infernal land?” Stannis asked.

Ser Godry is silent and then he says. “Wallace Waynwood has taken Winterfell back from the Ryswell man who was holding it. But that is not the only news that our scouts brought back, they also brought back this.” And with that Ser Godry throws a sack down at Stannis’s feet.

It takes him a moment to comprehend what he is looking at but when he does, he steps back in shock. “What is the meaning of this Ser Godry? What is this that you have presented before me?”

“It is as it looks Your Grace. Ser Justin brought back Ser Davos from where he was found. The crows had been at his body, but his head remained.” Ser Godry replied.

Stannis is about to respond when the sound of a horn is heard throughout the camp site, it goes off once and then twice, and then a third time. “Get the men ready, we have company.” Stannis marches back into his tent and gets armoured, before mounting his horse and riding out into battle.

The northmen fighting his own men are not Bolton men, for they fly the direwolf of House Stark and not the flayed man. More traitors in his midst, Stannis assumes before he rides out into the fray. Swinging Lightbringer he cuts down a man down here and there, pulling them down with sheer force, hacking and slashing, staining the ground red with blood, the body count goes on.  On he goes cutting, hacking and slashing at the fools who attack him from their point on foot; they stand not a chance against him mounted as he is. His sword is stained red by the time the barrage of men seems to have stopped coming towards him, giving him a minute to breathe, to assess the situation. His men were far outnumbered, it seemed Wallace Waynwood had done his homework, Stannis had come to the north with 2,000 men but the siege had taken half of that number, he was done for.

Not wanting to be killed simply milling about, Stannis dug his heels into his horse and began charging at the lines, it was a mad dash of hope he knew but he would rather it be this way than that. He cut down one, two, three men before he felt his wounds begin to creep up on him, a slash at his chest, a hack at his leg, and a cut on his arm they were weighing him down, at the cold to that and he was surprised he had not yet fallen down. He managed to bring down another man, but then he felt a sharp pain in his side and looked down through his visor to see an arrow protruding from his chest. Another arrow hit him in the back, and then struck his horse making them both fall to the ground, the weight of the horse and pure exhaustion is what ended up killing Stannis Baratheon, but Arya Stark’s arrows helped him on his weigh. On the twelfth day of the twelfth month of the 300th year after Aegon’s Landing, Stannis Baratheon died, and with him did his claim.


	24. Goodbye Mary Lou

**Lady Sansa Stark**

Life in the Vale was quite different to what her life had been like in King’s Landing. For one thing Sansa did not have to live with the constant fear that she might be brought before the court and abused for something completely out of her control, or even worse executed. Furthermore, in the Vale she was able to walk around relatively freely, without having to dye her hair, as she had been assured by both Ser Donnel and her aunt Lysa that none of the lords or ladies of the Vale would betray her to the Lannisters, for the hatred of the Lannisters was very strong within the kingdom. And so, she was able to live a life of peacefulness and quietness, helping to look after her cousin Sweetrobin when his mother or step father were busy running the Vale, or sewing and embroidering with Mya Stone, Randa and Ysilla Royce. For Sansa it did feel as if she was living back in Winterfell and the past few years had not truly happened. Her aunt was a nice and kind lady, who always made sure that Sansa was comfortable and never felt uneasy about anything, whilst her step uncle and Wallace’s older brother Donnel was a kind man who was very smart and intelligent, he made Sansa’s aunt happy and he also seemed to have a better hold over Sweetrobin then anyone else Sansa had seen before including her cousin’s own mother.  As for the other nobility of the Vale that she had met, Anya Waynwood stood out the most, Wallace’s mother was a formidable woman who was very smart and sharp of tongue though she knew how to make a fair few jokes that would often make Sansa blush from how bawdy they could sometimes be. Bronze Yohn Royce was a gruff man, who according to her aunt had been the Lord of Runestone since the time of King Jaehaerys II, though he was old, he did not appear to be severly affected by his age, still being as strong as an ox and as wily as a fox. His son Andar was a smart lad and incredibly good looking, something that Sansa had noticed the first time she had met him, Ysilla Royce was a kind girl who reminded Sansa somewhat of Myrcella Baratheon; she was married to Mychel Redfort who was a bit of an airhead.

Whilst they had been in the Eyrie, news from outside the Vale had been scarce in coming, mainly due to her aunt’s slight worry about what allowing more ravens to reach them could mean for them all. Once they had moved down to the Gates of the Moon though, more ravens had come as Nestor Royce who had been named Lord of the Gates for his loyal service to the Arryns had presented Sansa’s aunt with a stockpile of letters. Some of the contents of which Sansa had learnt. She knew that Tommem Baratheon had been declared king and had wed Margaery Tyrell, whilst his grandfather Tywin Lannister remained as hand and continued to ensure that his grandson’s reign was secure. Tyrion, her husband, or rather former husband, had been declared innocent of Joffrey’s murder and had been sent to be castellan of the Rock. The best piece of news that Sansa had learnt had come in the form that Wallace and Arya had been reunited and had regained Winterfell and had removed Stannis Baratheon and Roose Bolton from the north. Donnel had told her that and she had smiled a lot during that day, that day had been improved greatly when Donnel had then and come and told her that a raven had arrived from the new High Septon who it seemed had been friends with Lady Anya many years ago had declared the marriage between Sansa and Tyrion unconsummated and thus annulled, something that had infuriated the Lannisters but had meant Sansa was now free to do as she wished.

It was with that in mind that she had asked her aunt Lysa if she would be able to return home, back to Winterfell and Arya and Wallace, her aunt had said that for now it was not the right time to consider sending her back home after all there was still fighting waging in the north and if she were to go home and be captured she might be used against Wallace and his supporters. That Robb’s will was echoing in her head whilst she thought of the north and Wallace and Arya, only served to make the hurt all that worse, she could not return home, for that would threaten Wallace, she could not come back as a Stark for according to Robb’s will she was not a Stark. There were times when she hated Robb and Wallace for doing this to her, and then there were times when she felt as if she knew not what she thought. In the midst of all of this she had begun speaking to Lady Anya’s ward Harrold Hardying, otherwise known was Harry the heir. They had met during one of the feasts held at the Gates of the Moon, where Lady Anya had come with her gooddaughter Randa and with her grandchildren as well as with her ward Harry. Sansa and Harry had spoken to one another, and Sansa had found him to be very gallant and chivalrous, of course one time that would have been enough to win her over, but now she was very wary, Joffrey had made her wary and so she waited to make her judgement after a few more proper conversations, and so far she had found him to have lived up to her first impression.  In fact, with Lady Anya have decided to remain at the Gates of the Moon for another few weeks, they were meeting up for conversations and walks fairly regularly, today being once such instance. Sansa sneaked a quick look at Harry and nearly had her breath taken away, he looked stunning and his smiles as he spoke about his adventures in Iron Oaks were very fascinating. “My lady? Are you well?” His voice broke through her reverie.

“Hmm?” Sansa blinked and then said. “Oh forgive me, Ser. I was simply enjoying hearing you speak that is all.”

Harry blushed somewhat then and then asked. “Well enough about me. I have not heard about your tales for some time my lady. Tell me what have you been doing since we last met?”

Sansa was silent for a moment and then she said. “Well not that much Harry. I’ve just been spending time with Mya and Ysilla is all. But I do know that there are things happening in the Vale itself that might cause some trouble. I know that Lord Lyonel Corbray has been corresponding with his brother Lyn, and that there are concerns that he might be trying to bring the Lannisters to the Vale.”

She looked at Harry and saw that his face was unreadable, and then a moment later he said softly. “I too heard that. Many of the Vale lords are demanding that Lord Corbray be executed for treason, but Lady Anya says that there are no definite grounds for treason in this case, considering that in all practicality the Vale is still sworn to the Iron Throne. And until Robert Arryn has a crown placed on his head, we must allow some sort of contact with King’s Landing.”

Sansa felt something akin to nerves begin to flutter in her stomach. “Do you think the Lannisters will send someone to the Vale then? After all if they do then Lady Lysa will be obliged to let them into the Vale.”

“I do not think so. None of the Lords of the Vale like the Lannisters anymore than they like the Baratheons at this point. That is what I have heard from the conversations I have had with Lady Anya. I do think it is highly likely that Lady Lysa might feel more comfortable without having to do servitude to the Iron Throne. After all she has a five month old daughter to worry about as well. With cousin Robert as king, then there would be even more reason for them not to let the Lannisters into the Vale, and with the Ironborn pretty much at each other’s throats and the Targaryens rising across in the east, the Lannisters I do not think will wish to procure much more war on themselves.”

Sansa nodded and then gave voice to her thoughts on a matter that had truly been bothering her. “I do not mean to seem impertinent, but I do wish I could return home. Roose Bolton and Stannis Baratheon have been dealt with, and Wallace and Arya are secure in Winterfell, and yet it does not seem as if my aunt or Lady Anya are keen to let me go. I do not know why though.”

Harry sighed then and said softly. “It is not that they wish to deprive you of your wish to go home Sansa, but it is that they fear for your safety in the north. It is still insecure I believe, your cousin and sister will have their work cut out for them for a very long time. And I believe that both Lady Lysa and Lady Anya simply wish to make sure that all is safe and secure in Winterfell and the north before they consider allowing you to return home.”

Sansa nodded but feeling a lump beginning to form in her throat she said. “I do not mean to sound ungrateful, for I appreciate all that Aunt Lysa has done for me, but I do sorely wish to go home. I have many things I wish to say to both Arya and Wallace that I should have said before we all departed from one another. But I guess it is not supposed to be.”

“I think I might have a solution to your problem my lady.” Harry said.

Sansa looks at him then an eyebrow raised in question. “And what might that be?”

“Marry me, marry me and you won’t have to worry about the north at all. I will give you the home you want and deserve.” Harry says.


	25. A Black Fish

**Ser Brynden Tully**

From where he was stood out on the battlements he could see the siege camps that ran from outside Riverrun all the way to the Tumblestone and then some. Ever since his niece and great nephew had died, killed at Edmure’s wedding, the Lannisters had been trying and trying to break Riverrun the last place that held out for the King of the North and Robb Stark. The siege of Riverrun had lasted a year, from the beginning of the third century after Aegon’s Landing right into the present day, and the Blackfish’s resolve was as strong today as it had been when the siege had begun. Jaime Lannister was dead killed by his own hands, the Lannister siege forces were slowly beginning to run out of food and water and other supplies, and soon enough they would have to either storm the castle or they would have to disband and admit defeat. It had been two years since the War of the Five Kings had begun, and whilst many of the main combatants were now dead, Brynden could not help but feel that for the first time since the battle of the camps, the riverlands might actually be moving into a secure place. The War had gone so well for the north and the riverlands in the beginning, wins at the Whispering Wood and the Camps had given way to wins in the Westerlands, when the place had gone a light, Brynden had felt a sense of satisfaction, but then it all came crashing down when King Robb fell prey to teenage honour and emotion and broke his oath to the Freys by wedding Jeyne Westerling instead. From there they had been clawing their way through the war and as such when King Robb had died some part of Brynden had felt a mixture of relief and dread.

Robb Stark had been a good lad, smart and honourable and a very good tactician and warrior, that his heart had led to his downfall only made Brynden grief over what could have been had he survived and not bedded Jeyne Westerling. When Brynden had learnt that the girl was pregnant, he had done all he could to keep the news from everyone except a select few people in Riverrun whom he trusted, he had even had the girl’s mother imprisoned when Maester Vyman confirmed that she had been trying to give her daughter moon tea. Prince Eddard Stark, the rightful king of the north and trident, was born on the ninth day of the eighth month of the 300th year after Aegon’s Landing, and though he was a healthy child in most aspects, the moon tea that Jeyne’s mother had been forcing her to have, had made it so that the boy’s left arm was much shorter and much more stunted than his right, a defect that was most unfortunate, and a crime that Brynden felt had ensured that the old hag was thrown into the dungeons. Whilst Eddard Stark was born, another tragedy also befell Brynden and those he cared about, Edmure’s Frey wife it seemed had birthed a girl, and though Brynden had thought that the Freys would only execute Edmure should a boy be born to his wife, it seemed Ryman Frey the drunken sot that he was wanted this all over, and so Edmure had hung from the hangman’s noose some three weeks after King Robb’s son was born.

Ryman Frey was dead though, he had in a moment of drunken stupidity tried to charge Riverrun and had had his body littered with arrows, his son Edwyn had had the same happen to him as well. Still there were some things Brynden needed to sort out and discuss, and that was why he was now meeting with Maester Vyman, Ser Robin Grell and Utherydes Wayn to discuss the upcoming plan. Once they were all seated, Brynden began by asking his customary question. “Where is her grace and the king?”

Maester Vyman spoke then his voice soft. “They are in Queen Jeyne’s chambers my lord. They are guarded by Rox and Roston both of whom are very trustworthy and would give their lives to protect her grace and the king.”

Brynden nods and then says. “That is good, so long as they remain safe that is my main concern. Now, as we all know the Lannister siege that is outside our gates, is beginning to thin down. Men are leaving their army day by day in increasing numbers, soon enough they shall have little to no strength left. Now is a perfect opportunity to strike and remove them from our gates once and for all.”

There were murmurs of approval but Ser Robin Grell asked. “And how will you do that my lord? You have  made it perfectly clear to the Lannisters that you will not treat with them, nor will you allow them to come close to the gates. How will they be lulled into a false sense of security with this in mind?”

Brynden smiled then and said. “Why that’s the point though, the gates shall open and I shall go out and treat with them. I shall say I have had a change of heart and that I wish to acknowledge my foolhardiness. Lower the direwolf banners and fly flags of white and surrender and they shall believe us. This is not Tywin Lannister we are dealing with, this is some green boy who has never fought proper war before, he will believe so that he can return back to the Westerlands.”

Maester Vyman spoke then. “If this plan does succeed, how will you ensure that they do not simply kill you and storm the castle anyway my lord?”

Brynden smiles once more and says softly. “Because there is some smarts left in this old fish, and we have aid coming from the north in the form of bears and wolves.”

Ser Robin openly exclaims then. “Does that mean that Wallace Waynwood himself shall be riding out to remove the Lions from here or not?”

“No unfortunately, Wallace shall not join us in removing lions from our pond. But he has sent men under the command of his brother Ser Morton Waynwood to assist us and when the gates open, we shall need to wait for a horn to be blown before we can make it the full use of our advantage.” Brynden says.

“How do you know these men will come though my lord? Pardon me for being so forthright, but we have not had any contact with the north since before King Robb came down from Winterfell. This could all simply be a ruse by Roose Bolton.” Ser Robin said.

Brynden nodded accepting what the man said but then he replied. “Aye it could be, or it could not be, and it could actually be Ser Morton Waynwood and his army of men. We shall never know unless we take a chance. I am tired of sitting here in my home waiting for one of us to die first. If I must die, let it be with steel in my hand and let me kill lions before I die.”

After that they spend the next hour discussing what exactly needs to be done to make Brynden’s plan work, and then when the time comes, the direwolf banners of House Stark are lowered and in their place are flown the lion of Lannister. Brynden gags internally at the sight but smoothes his face into a blank expression. He is dressed in black as night armour, to go with his name, he mounts his warhorse, and sheathes his sword, forty men from the garrison accompany him, and as the gates are raised he feels a sense of anticipation fill him. He rides out and shouts. “Who here commands this siege?”

There is silence for a moment, and then a shout comes back. “Ser Addam Marbrand does.”

“Well tell him that Ser Brynden Tully wishes to discuss terms of surrender with him.” Brynden shouts back.

There is silence and then the sound of hooves echoes towards Brynden, Ser Addam Marbrand dressed in red armour and some four other men come towards him. Marbrand raises his visor and says. “Ser Brynden, I hear you wish to discuss the terms of your surrender with me. Perhaps we could retire to my tent to more appropriately discuss these terms?”

“Aye that I do,” Brynden says, and then he is silent and then says. “But I would rather discuss terms with you out here in the open. After all the people you serve are known for doing their deeds behind closed doors, and in my old age I have become quite paranoid.”

Brynden knows that Marbrand wishes to protest instead he merely nods and says. “Very well then, in exchange for your surrender and handing over of the castle to myself, you and whoever of your garrison wishes to shall be allowed to take the black. Those who wish to remain within the castle shall serve Lord Emmon Frey and his Lady Wife Genna Frey, and when the time comes one of their sons shall wed Minisa Tully, daughter of your late nephew Lord Edmure Tully.”

Brynden nodded, and then said. “That seems all well and good, I suppose you will want me to bend my knee here and now then in front of all your men then?”

Marbrand looked uncomfortable but he nodded all the same. “Aye that would be best I think.”

Brynden nodded, and dismounted from his horse, taking of his helm, he knelt at Marbrand’s feet and said softly. “Know that we do not bend so easily as you might think. This is just the beginning.” And with that he drew his sword and thrust it through Marbrand’s throat quick as a flash as the men he had come with began attacking those whom Marbrand had come with. Shortly after that the garrison came pouring out of the gates of Riverrun and the battle began, the Lannister men were tired and drained and were not expecting the attack hence Brynden and his men got the advantage early on. He hacked his way through many men cutting them down with ease, as the battle began to lack a sound of a horn came and those men flying the banners of House Stark came galloping from the woods, taking heart from that Brynden raised his sword and roared as loud as he could. “THE KING IN THE NORTH!” and the battle raged on.

Eventually when all was said and done, the Lannister host that had laid siege to Riverrun was either dead or fled, and as such Riverrun had been freed from siege. On the first day of the first month of the 301st Year after Aegon’s Landing, Brynden Tully smiled and laughed, and thought that perhaps the riverlands would be free at last.


	26. A Flayed Man

**Lady Lyarra Bolton**

It had been nearly a year since her father had died on the banks of the Fever River, a year in which many things had changed in the north and her family’s position had improved considerably. Wallace Stark had led some 2,000 men from Winterfell to attack Stannis Baratheon killing the man and ending his siege of the Dreadfort for which both Lyarra and her father had been grateful, of course Wallace was not simply going to let her father remain in the Dreadfort whilst he lived, and so he began burning the lands around the Dreadfort, drawing his father and his men out from their home. Lyarra had been in labour when her father had ridden off to war one last time but she had heard the news from one of her oldest friends Steelshanks Walton who had come back following her father’s death. From him she had learnt how her father and his men had fought a very, very fierce battle with Wallace Stark and his men, and how her father had managed to force Wallace Stark and his men to retreat west of the Fever River with their men significantly reduced. In doing so however, her father the great Roose Bolton had received many an injury and had died before he could make it back home.

And so though Wallace Stark had lost the battle in one sense in another he had won it and with it the north, for with Roose Bolton dead and the armies of the Dreadfort pretty much beaten and depleted, there was little for Lyarra to do except for dip her banners and fly the white flag of surrender. The men who came back from the battle led by Steelshanks Walton had sworn fealty to her, but even with them she knew she would be significantly outnumbered, and having just given birth to her and Jon’s son Rodrik, and with her husband still in chains in White Harbour she was not really willing to keep fighting. And so she sent word to Wallace Stark that she was willing to discuss terms of surrender, and so when the man arrived with his wife Arya Stark, they spent four days discussing terms and at the end of it all, Lyarra did think that her house had come out much improved from the whole thing. As well as getting full pardons for both herself, her family and her vassals she had also gotten her husband freed from his cell in the Wolf’s Den, and had also gotten some land taken from the Hornwoods as well as the option of making the Hornwoods become their sworn bannermen if she so chose. In return for this, Lyarra had agreed that when he turned eight Rodrik would be sent to foster at Winterfell and that should House Bolton ever betray Winterfell ever again, they would accept complete extermination. The negotiations were ominous and for the first time Lyarra saw why Wallace Stark was being called the northern answer to Tywin Lannister, the man was ruthless and would do whatever it took to preserve his family and the north.

Still once Stark had left Jon had come back home some three weeks later, looking more like a skeleton than a person and so Lyarra had forgotten all about the Starks and the rest of the north and spent the rest of her time with her husband and son, nursing Jon back to health and making sure he was strong enough to stand and talk let alone help her rule their lands. Lyarra had come to realise that she loved Jon dearly, and could not imagine a life without him, there had been times during the early days of their marriage where she had feared that her father’s actions would mean that their relationship would sour and would never be what it could be, and then when he had been imprisoned in White Harbour she had seriously worried about whether or not she would ever get to see him again. Now that he was back, she made every effort to ensure he felt appreciated and knew that she loved him, she knew that he loved her and their son, though he was very, very quiet and reserved even more so than he had been before he had left for White Harbour.  Rodrik took after him that in regard, their son with his pale skin and eyes, was a very quiet babe, hardly ever crying and always doing as he was told, he had started speaking some two moons ago and though he rarely bawled as Lyarra had known some babes to do, he was still an active child in that he was very curious about certain things.

A touch on her arm brought her out of her reverie. She turned round to see Jon looking at her, concern etched onto his lovely face. “Are you well my love?” he asked. “If you wish to leave the hall I am sure that Wallace and Arya will not mind. After all it has been quite a tiring day.”

It took her a moment to remember where she was, and then it clicked, they were in Winterfell having been invited along with most of the other northern nobility to celebrate the completion of  the rebuilding of Winterfell. Lyarra looked around and saw that the festivities were still in full swing though she could not see either King Wallace or Queen Arya. She shook her head then and said. “No I am quite well my love. But tell me where are Wallace and Arya for I cannot see them. Nor can I see Mors Umber or Lord Rickard. Has something happened?”

Jon’s brow knitted together, and his voice was very soft when he replied. “They have called a meeting of a very few select lords to discuss some very interesting news that has come from the south. We have been asked to attend the meeting, but if you are too tired to go, I will beg off for now and speak with them later on.”

Lyarra shook her head then. “No there is no need for that Jon. We need to be seen as working with Wallace and Arya, there are those who still view us with suspicion and they will want to put us into Wallace and Arya’s bad books, we cannot have that. We must attend this meeting and we must see what it is that is so urgent.”

Jon nods and together they get up and walk out of the hall, when they arrive at Wallace’s solar they find Wallace, Arya, Lord Karstark, Mors Umber, her grandfather Lord Rodrik Ryswell, Lord Edrick Flint and Ser Wylis Manderly all present. So this will be a meeting of the trusted confidants of the new royal couple then, something serious must be about to go on. Once they are seated, Wallace Stark looking old and tired, like the leader of a pack speaks his voice soft. “Thank you for coming now, and sorry to take you away from the feast, but there are certain tidings from the south that I felt you all needed to hear before they become more common knowledge.” At that there is some murmuring before it eventually dies down. Wallace Stark speaks once more. “Riverrun has been freed from the Lannister siege, my brother Morton returned to Winterfell earlier tonight and reported as much, Ser Brynden Tully has now decided to purge the riverlands of Lannisters and Freys alike. Last Morton had heard, he had managed to get the Brackens and Blackwoods back onto the same side and was marching for Darry. Soon enough Lord Umber, himself shall be back in the north and ready to defend us from whatever threats might come from north of the wall.” There is a lot of cheering at that and then Wallace continues. “There has been more word from the south as well. It would appear as if the Ironborn have finally resolved their inheritance issue, and have declared Asha Greyjoy Queen of the Isles. She is now looking for allies to help her in her war against the Iron Throne. Soon enough an ambassador from the Isles will come to treat with us, and I would hear your thoughts on what we should do.”

There is some murmuring there and then Lord Karstark spoke his voice laced with anger. “I would not trust the Ironborn with a stick let alone an alliance. These are the same people who invaded our homes and burned them to dust, who killed your cousins Your Grace. I say we let Asha Greyjoy and her squids fend for themselves as they left us to do when King Robb asked for their alliance.”

Mors Umber seemed to be of the same opinion. “I would never dream of allying with the Ironborn, they have ships aye, but most of those ships will have been destroyed during their own civil war. If it is ships that you want Your Grace, then you need only look towards White Harbour, where Lord Manderly has been building ships since the order came from your cousin two years ago. We need not ally with the squids now.”

 _Fools, you are thinking in the short term, ally with the Ironborn and we shall be unstoppable._ Lyarra thinks. But she holds her tongue as Ser Wylis speaks. “Whilst it is true that my father has been building ships for two years now and should have a considerable fleet to call upon should Your Grace so choose, our western shore is still vulnerable to attack. Perhaps it would be wise to ally with the Ironborn and then consider building a port town on the western coast and a fleet there to match?”

There is sense in what Manderly says, Lord Edrick Flint opens his mouth and Lyarra has the feeling that whatever he says might turn the matter one way or another. “I believe we should ally with the Ironborn, for though we are traditionally rivals, Asha Greyjoy needs allies, and we need a way to defend ourselves against the Lannisters in the west. I say ally with her and seal the deal with a marriage, whom it is that gets married we should leave for your grace to decide.”

Lyarra looks at the King and that is when she realises that he had already made his decision a long time ago, she looks at Jon and sees that he has had the same realisation. The king’s voice is calm and level when he says. “I thank you for voicing your views my lords. I agree with Lord Edrick, we need to strengthen our western defences, and so whilst we are doing that I see no harm in allying with the Ironborn. There will be terms to our alliance of course, but the more trouble the Iron Throne is under, the less time they will have to focus on us.”


	27. The Lion Peacemaker

**Lord Tywin Lannister**

It had been two years since his grandson Joffrey had died at his own wedding feast and Tyrion had been falsely accused of doing the deed, two years since his younger grandson Tommem had ascended the throne in his brother’s place. The difference between the two of them could not have been more pronounced, for whilst he had lived Joffrey had been an evil brat of a child, whom Tywin had genuinely thought would end up madder than Aerys had been, Tommem was a much sweeter and charming person. And unlike his older brother, his charm was genuine and not put on, there seemed not to be a malicious bone in his body, though under Tywin’s guidance he had become a lot smarter and a lot better at the many things he had been lacking in under his own mother’s tutelage, mainly confidence and the ability to wield a sword properly.  That Tommem was completely different to his brother, Tywin knew had helped keep the Tyrells onside, the boy was only eleven and yet he seemed to get on like a house on fire with his wife the cunning and sweet Margaery Tyrell, something which Tywin suspected would not have happened had Joffrey still lived.

It seemed that everyone else in King’s Landing and wider Westeros seemed to agree with his opinion, for the council members and the various noblemen and ladies at court had all mentioned to Tywin just how good a lad Tommem seemed and how much like a young Robert Baratheon he appeared to be. It was only Cersei who seemed to take issue with how her second son seemed to be doing, often ranting and raving about the corruptive influence the Tyrells were having on him, and warning Tywin that they would try and kill both himself and her in order to have sole control over King’s Landing. Something Tywin found quite preposterous as it was him and him alone who was holding the alliance together paving back some of Mace Tyrell’s more erratic demands and making them seem more reasonable in a more stripped down version. It was after one particular rant which had raged on for almost half a day that Tywin had finally decided that enough was enough, Cersei needed to be shifted off to a Sept, to become a Septa or even a Silent Sister, so long as she was away from King’s Landing and Tommem he would be happy. She had been sent to a little Sept on the Driftmark where Ser Vaemond Velaryon had promised to keep an eye on her, as she became Septa.

Of course just now that was the least of his worries, he had called a council meeting in order to discuss certain events that had just become known to him. The council members entered the chamber, master of laws his brother Ser Kevan, master of coin Lord Baelish, grand maester Pycelle and Lord Varys as well as the young rose Ser Loras Tyrell who was of course Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Randyll Tarly was away in Maidenpool and Mace Tyrell was marching back from Storm’s End. Once they were all seated Tywin spoke. “Now my lords, I thank you all for coming. We have some very urgent business to discuss. Lord Varys what news do you have from the north?”

The eunuch was silent for a moment and then he said. “Though we are beginning to see the first signs of a proper winter, my little birds have finally been able to decipher what has actually happened to Stannis Baratheon and his army beyond the rumours we heard tell from various sources beforehand. As the council will remember Stannis Baratheon and his men were laying siege to the Dreadfort hoping to starve the Boltons either to death or submission, however, they were running out of supplies and were attacked in the rear by Wallace Stark and his men. A fierce battle followed and Stannis was killed. His men were of course used to lift the siege of Riverrun, but that is for later. Now following the ending of Stannis Baratheon’s life, there was a battle between Wallace Stark’s forces and those under the command of Roose Bolton, though Bolton won the day and forced Stark to retreat, he eventually ended up dying from his wounds. Something that forced his daughter to surrender. At the end of it all House Bolton remains and the north is rebuilding its strength.”

Tywin nodded accepting this fact, but it seemed Loras Tyrell could not. “I thought the Starks and Boltons were always lifelong enemies, why would Stark allow them to survive in such order and give them more land as well? Surely it would make more sense to have them completely eradicated?”

Tywin looked at the boy, and for all he was a great swordsman he lacked any real battle experience having only fought the one battle at the Blackwater. It was Lord Baelish who spoke his voice soft. “Whilst it might make more sense in the short term to eradicate House Bolton for their litany of crimes against the north and the Starks, in the long term doing so only creates fear and uncertainty in the eyes of the other lords of the north. Besides the Starks have been fighting for nearly three years now, their forces are greatly depleted simply trying to remove all the Boltons would require greater man power than they have at their disposal at present, it was a smarter move by Stark to simply allow the Boltons to bend the knee and take some concessions from them.”

Tyrell does not seem so completely satisfied by this but he lets it drop. Varys then continues speaking. “My little birds have also picked up word that Wallace Stark means to ally with the Ironborn, he believes that his western coast is still threatened and as such wishes to have a strong sea power between him and the Westerlands. In exchange for this promise of protection, the Starks shall provide what little men they can to aid Asha Greyjoy in her raiding missions.”

“And where does she plan to raid? Do your little birds know that Varys?” Tywin asked. If it were the Westerlands he would have to let Tyrion know.

The eunuch was silent for a moment before he said. “My little birds tell me that they plan on invading the Reach. Asha Greyjoy it seems shares one thing in common with her uncle Euron, there are richer pickings in the Reach for the Ironborn to enjoy than the riverlands or the north or even the Westerlands.”

Tywin nods and then says. “Pycelle, I want you to send a raven to Lord Tyrell and tell him to take his men not back to King’s Landing but back to the Reach, and to prepare for the invasion that will come. I also want a raven sent to Willas Tyrell to tell him to begin preparations as well.”

Ser Loras speaks then. “I would be more than honoured to march south and help defend the Reach from these pirates my lord.”

 _I know you would, but I will not send you away just yet, there is more use for you here._ Tywin thinks, aloud he merely says. “Whilst I know that you would give your utmost Ser Loras, I am afraid you are more needed here for the time being. After all the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard is needed to protect the king and ensure his fellow sworn brothers remain true to themselves.”

Though the rose does not seem to like it he bows his head and accepts Tywin’s judgement. That settled Pycelle speaks then. “There was a raven from Lord Tarly my lord. It seems Brynden Tully has managed to bring Castle Darry back into the fold for his great niece Minisa Tully. Lord Tarly writes that Tully is soon to be advancing on Maidenpool and that when he does arrive Lord Tarly does plan on giving him a very red welcoming.”

Tywin nods and then asks. “What news has there been of the rest of the Riverlands? Are the Freys secure in their position or will they need more reinforcements?”

Pycelle looks down at the letter in front of him and then says. “The Freys are waging a civil war amongst themselves my lord, it appears that Walder Frey has finally passed onto the beyond and many are trying to decide whether a girl or Black Walder Frey would make the better Leader of the Freys at this time. As such, the Blackfish has capitalised on this to recruit many and more men and women to his cause and has begun taking back the castles that once bent the knee to the Freys. As such it might be best to leave the Freys to themselves.”

Tywin nods seeing the sense in that and then seeing the look of worry on Kevan’s face asks. “Was there any mention of what happened to Lancel or any of those bearing the family name who were lodged at Castle Darry?”

Pycelle shakes his head and says. “No my lord.”

Tywin looks at Kevan who nods and remains silent. Tywin then turns his attention to the next pressing item on the agenda. “Now it has been sometime since Shireen Baratheon arrived at King’s Landing, whilst I do not truly care whether or not she has settled in, what I wish to know is whether or not she is ready for marriage?”

Pycelle spoke then. “Yes my lord I do believe she is. She has flowered and with Storm’s End secure it would make sense for the marriage to be consummated as soon as possible.”

Tywin nods and turns to Kevan. “Martyn and Shireen shall wed in two days time, I want to make sure that everything goes according to plan, and so whatever we must needs do in the Riverlands must need wait for now.” Kevan nods and Tywin hopes that he is not wrong.


	28. A New Day

**Queen Asha Greyjoy**

She sat the Seastone chair as Queen of the Iron Isles, and yet the way in which she had come to her throne still bothered her greatly. She had contested her uncle Euron’s claim to the throne, claiming that as the last surviving child of Balon Greyjoy’s loins the throne was rightfully hers, her uncle Aeron had said that no woman could sit the Seastone chair and as much as he might not like it, the Drowned God had chosen the Crow’s Eye as their king. Asha had laughed and had asked her uncle when had the Ironborn ever cared what any god had ever had to say, and retreating to Harlaw with her uncle the Reader she had begun plotting her next move. She had thought that her uncle Victarion being the loyal lapdog that he was would remain with the Crow’s Eye, but he had surprised her by turning up at Harlaw with half of the Iron Fleet- the good half- and roughly half of the lords of the isles. Raising her standard she had declared herself the rightful ruler and war had raged across the isles. For a whole year the Isles were engulfed in war, Asha saw more death and destruction in that time than she had seen in around ten years of raiding and pillaging following her father’s first rebellion. At the end of it, the Crow’s Eye was killed by her uncle Victarion in revenge for some sort of sin committed many year ago, and her uncle Aeron placed the driftwood crown atop her brow. The civil war had been a year ago and yet the Isles were still not fully recovered from it, and that was why she had reached across the pond to the North where they had once held sway, for an alliance and men.

She had thought that the north would reject her alliance, considering that her brother had been the one to take Winterfell and kill the Stark boys, and yet Wallace Stark a man whose reputation was growing with every day, had accepted and terms had been set. And some three moons after the terms were agreed Ser Morton Waynwood, Stark’s brother arrived with 300 men, and they had begun planning their move to take the Shield Islands. Whilst Asha had been received with a lot of hostility by most of the men under Morton’s command, Morton himself seemed to have no problem speaking to her, speaking her mind to her. It was that she supposed that had attracted her to him, and him to her, and whilst there was a lot of pressure on her to marry, she had found that she did not truly wish to marry yet, not until she had had her fun with Waynwood. And even though the man was married with two children, they had fallen into bed with one another before leaving Pyke, and for the time that they had been out at sea they had been lovers and confidants and much more. It was a very invigorating experience for her, and one she had wished had not to end, even if it would soon have to.

The sounds of battle raging brought her back to her senses. They were fighting to bring the Shield Islands back under Ironborn control, and whilst her uncle Victarion had command over some thirty of the Iron Fleet’s ships to take Grimshield and Oakenshield, Asha had command over the rest of the fleet to take Southshield and Greyshield. And as such the fighting that was raging was fierce and quick, Asha raised her axe as a Reachman came charging towards her, Asha cleaved him in two and then marched on swinging her axe like a woman possessed. She kept swinging her axe cleaving men in two as they kept coming in large numbers, swinging, hacking and blocking, on and on she went, bringing more and more men down as she went, her axe was wet with blood, the ships floorboards were stained red with the fallen blood. On and on it went swinging her axe, left right and centre on and on, she knocked one, two, three, four, five and then six men and pushed on, onto the next ship where the same thing happened once more.

Morton was fighting next to her, his face flushed from the fighting he turned to her and gave her a mad grin before shouting. “They’re defences are weakening, soon enough we shall have the ships we need to take the castles.” Asha nodded and together they pushed on, swinging her axe, whilst Morton cleaved through another man. The fighting went on and on and on, and in the midst of it all they got separated, but Asha paid very little attention to that, instead focussing on keeping her axe in front of her and trying not to slip on the amount of blood that was on the floor. And so with her axe stained red with blood she came across the last of the greenlanders commanders and as she cleaved through his skull, she raised her axe in triumph they had taken command of all the greenlanders ships, and now their assault of the islands began.

Sometime later once Southshield and Greyshield had been captured, Asha found herself sat in the great hall of Greyshield celebrating with her men drinking and feasting. A messenger had told her that her uncle had captured Grimshield and Oakenshield and was making his way over to Greyshield to hear what more she had to say, the drinking and feasting continued well into the early hours of the morning, and Asha was more than a bit drunk when the castle maester came shuffling up to her and whispered in her ear. “Your Grace, I have bad tidings. The man you asked me to care for? Ser Morton Waynwood? He died from his wounds just now. They had gotten infected and though myself and my helper did all we could to relieve the pain and tidy the wounds up there was nothing more we could do.”

Asha feels some sort of pain in her chest at the news but merely nods her head and says. “Thank you for trying maester, you may rest now.” And with that she gets up and leaves. When she wakes up the next morning her head is pounding and there is an emptiness to her, that has nothing to do with her empty bed. By afternoon the rest of the castle is up and awake, and though there are a few soar heads they are all smiling and cheery for they have done something that has not been done for 300 years they have taken the entrance to the Reach. Eventually after lunch has been had, Asha calls a council to discuss what their next move should be, her uncle Victarion as well as Ser Harras Harlaw, Nute the Barber, Alton Volmark, Dennard Kenning and Tarius Pyke are all present. Asha takes a sip of water and then says. “Well done my lords, we have hold of the Shield Islands, and therefore have managed to prevent any retaliatory attacks on the isles from any one from the Reach. Of course once news of our victory here reaches the Iron Throne they shall wish to retaliate anyway, and as such we must prepare for that. But for now we must plan where we shall attack next.”

Her uncle speaks then his voice heavy and determined. “There is only one place where we can truly attack and realistically expect to succeed and that is the Arbor. The Redwyne Fleet is most likely still in King’s Landing, and for now with the weather being how it is, it will take them a lot of time to get from King’s Landing to their homeland to defend it. In that time we can raid the Arbor, take what wine and other plunder we wish, and if you so desire capture it, or alternatively simply set it to the torch.”

There were murmurs of agreement there. Nute the Barber a simple man as ever one Asha had ever met said. “Aye, take the Arbor get drunk on their wine and fuck their women, and then burn it to the ground, and we shall have sent a clear message to King’s Landing.”

Tarius Pyke spoke then and asked. “Aye we could raid the Arbor and burn it once we are done, but I thought that you had promised to expand the Ironborn’s control over Westeros, how is doing this expanding control? This is just resorting to what Dagon Greyjoy did those many years ago when the dragons still ruled. If you want true control go for where the Reach’s strength and power resides, not that flowery seat of Highgarden but Oldtown. Take that, or even take what you wish from there, and the world will sit up and take note.”

“And how do you propose we take Oldtown Pyke?” Her uncle Victarion asked. “Oldtown has never fallen, not to the dragons or to anyone else, the last time the Ironborn tried to take the place, Urrigon Greyiron and half his family ended up dying on the banks of the Whispering Sound. To attempt taking Oldtown is akin to suicide.”

Pyke though was unrelenting. “Aye it might be suicide, but what of the old way? We are Ironborn not greenlanders, such risks are in our blood, have always been in our blood. To attempt to take the Arbor but not Oldtown I believe is cowardice. Take Oldtown and we can then move onto Highgarden and from there the whole of the Reach.”

Her uncle rebutted that by saying. “Aye, we have just had a civil war from which we are not fully recovered, and we are lucky that the shield islands are so sparsely defended. Oldtown will not be, whereas the Arbor might be. With Morton Waynwood dead as well, there is also the question of whether or the not the men who came with him will remain with us to the end whenever that might be.”

Asha spoke then. “Whilst you both have put in good arguments for what we should do and why. I feel that I am more inclined to attack the Arbor, we know it has a lot of wealth and resources, things we desperately need. Oldtown is too risky for us what with how few men we truly have. We must plan carefully and go from there. That is the only way in which we shall ever actually achieve what we have set out to do.” With that said, Asha dismisses her men and ponders how they will attack the Arbor and when.

 


	29. Saviour

**Jon Connington**

For twenty years he had been in exile, ever since that day he had failed to stop Robert Baratheon at the Stoney Sept, he had left Westeros in disgrace, his house had lost its glory and the usurper had eventually sat the throne. Jon had blown the first few years of his exile in drink and in fighting, first for the Second Sons and then for the Golden Company, where he had been forced to leave so as to suit one of the Spider’s many schemes, after that he had wandered around Essos for nearly a year before coming back to Pentos where he had found the boy who had Rhaegar’s eyes and smile. Aegon had been five when Jon Connington had met him, and from that day on they had lived on the Shy Maid, where Jon taught the lad all he knew about ruling, and others taught him about the Faith and the wider world. They grew into something of a family, though Jon was always careful not to trust anyone within their group with the most intimate of plans apart from Lemore, she who had been Princess Elia’s closest friend. The years had flown by and Jon had found a purpose for the monotony of his days, something to strive for, and as he watched Aegon grow from a boy to a man he felt proud, so very proud of this lad who was his entire son but in name.

They had all grown impatient waiting for the Spider to make up his mind as to when they should invade, he plan had changed so many times and when Tywin Lannister remained alive, Jon began fearing that they might never actually make it across the sea in his lifetime. But then Aegon had shown some rare displays of leadership and decreed that he was tired of waiting for some outside force to dictate what he did, and so they set sail and at Volon Therys picked up the Golden Company and Daenaerys Targaryen and her dragons and her army of Unsullied and a variety of other sellsword companies. It seemed the Mother of Dragons had grown tired of waiting around in Meeren as well and had decided to act, that the decision had been hers and not Ser Barristan Selmy’s Jon was not entirely sure, considering Selmy seemed much more at home speaking of Westeros than he seemed talking about Essos and what Daenaerys had been doing in the East for so long. The meeting between Aegon and Daenaerys was an interesting one, one that Jon had been worrying over for many years, but when one of the Queen’s dragons Rhaegal he believed it was called immediately took a liking to the lad, Jon’s fears were put to rest and Daenaerys agreed to a marriage between the two of them.

That had been some five moons ago now, and whilst they had been planning and planning on what their next move was to be, the King and his Queen had been getting to know one another and had begun training themselves on how to rule, and it was quite clear to anyone who had eyes and a brain that they were falling for one another. Jon simply hoped that they would not let that get in the way of what they were planning to do. Aegon dressed in the red and black of his house, with his Queen sat next to him looking like the maiden come to life in a dress of pure white, were sat at the high table in Pentos. Also there were Jon, Ser Barristan and Ser Jorah who were part of the Kingsguard and of course the fat man Illyrio Mopatis. Jon waited and eventually Aegon spoke. “We all know why we are here. It has been nearly two decades since our family was removed from its rightful seat of power in King’s Landing. The usurper and two of his dogs are dead. Yet Tywin Lannister remains alive and in control, his grandson sits the throne, our throne. But for now we must establish a foothold in Westeros, I would hear your thoughts on where you believe we should set up shop.”

There was silence and then Ser Barristan spoke. “If I were you, Your Grace I would aim to set up in Dorne. Prince Doran and the Martells are Kin to you, once they hear of your survival they will come flocking to your banner, for a chance of revenge for Princess Elia and Princess Rhaenys. Land in Dorne and you will have 20,000 spears waiting for you to use.”

Ser Jorah echoed that thought saying. “Aye, it is true. 20 years might have passed, but the rage that simmers in Dorne at what was done to the Princess still remains strong as it was when news of the sack first reached Dorne. Land in Dorne Your Grace, and you shall have enough strength to begin challenging the Lannisters almost immediately.”

Jon saw a smile appear on Aegon’s face and thought he needed to voice a question. “What of Viserion though? It is all well and good having two dragons with riders, but there is still one dragon left untamed. Westeros might not be in the pre-conquest era anymore, but there will be those who believe that a third dragon without a third rider is an omen of ill things. Another rider must be found before we can consider anymore sort of direct action. And though you may be kin to the Martells, they will most definitely want something in return for their support, notwithstanding the fact that Prince Quentyn died trying to tame one of her grace’s dragons. There is also the fact that Prince Trystane is married to Princess Myrcella, should anything happen to King Tommem, Doran Martell might very well crown Myrcella Queen and install his own blood on the throne.”

The cheesemonger laughed then, slapping his belly he boomed. “You always have to be a party pooper don’t you Connington. I know for a fact that Doran Martell has no intention of crowning Myrcella Baratheon queen. The girl is still half Lannister, and Prince Doran knows that his people will find no satisfaction with the girl on the throne. No they will want our two Targaryens on the throne or nothing at all.”

“What news has there been from your contact in King’s Landing Magister Illyrio?” Queen Daenaerys asked sweetly.

The cheesemonger puffed up then as he was wont to do and replied. “The Lannisters have found themselves to be in quite a pickle. The north led by Wallace Stark has retained its independence after Stark beat both Stannis Baratheon and Roose Bolton. The Riverlords led by Brynden Tully are destroying whatever support the Lannisters had in the Riverlands, and there is talk that the Vale might finally enter the war. Furthermore the Ironborn have been raiding the Reach. It seems the only two regions firmly behind the Lannisters are the Westerlands and the Crownlands.”

Aegon spoke then his voice showed just how happy he was by the news. “That is fantastic, the Lannisters will be too busy trying to get back what they think is theirs to even see us landing and taking back our right. What is the situation in the Stormlands?”

Mopatis was silent for a moment and then he said. “Stannis Baratheon’s daughter Shireen has been recognised by the Lannisters as the rightful Lady of Storm’s End and has been married to Martyn Lannister. However, due to the weather they have not or at least when this report came through, they had not been able to leave for Storm’s End following the wedding. As it is, even if they have arrived at Storm’s End the castle will be very lightly garrisoned, and may fall easily enough.”

Jon heard the suggestion in the cheesemonger’s tone and spoke up. “Are you suggesting we land in the Stormlands and begin our campaign from there? Storm’s End has never fallen and the Stormlords have always been fanatically loyal to Robert Baratheon and his family.”

Mopatis smiled and said. “Aye, they might have done, but during the rebellion a good portion of the Stormlords sided with the Targaryens. Even now there are grumblings about bending to the Lannisters. Stannis Baratheon was never well liked in his homeland, nor is his daughter. That she is married to a Lannister and is effectively a Lannister puppet will make it seem even more reasonable that they refuse the Lannisters. Robert is dead and with him the Baratheon charm. Now is the perfect time to bring the Stormlands into the fold.”

“And you propose we do that with what 20,000 men? Half of whom have never fought in real battle before?” Jon asked amazed.

Aegon spoke then. “We have three dragons as well Jon, plus we have three of the most experienced commanders alive serving our cause. We can bring the Stormlords into the fray and we can do it relatively bloodlessly. We just need to start out small first.”

“What would you suggest then Your Grace?” Jon asks, seeing if Aegon truly is keen on doing this.

“We start off on the coast, Greenstone and Cape Wrath. Conquer those castles and men will flock to our banners. Do this and we shall show them that we mean business. The dragons will help but they will not be our main weapon. Experience will.” Aegon replies.

Jon sighs and says. “Very well, I suppose if there is any time to strike, now is it. But I warn you, the dragons might not be as effective as you might think in the middle of winter. They will need to be used sparingly, and your Kingsguard will need more men.”

Both the king and queen nod, and plans are made, Jon can only hope that this does not end in shambles. He cannot stand more bells ringing.


	30. Siege

**Lady Shireen Lannister**

To Shireen it seemed that ever since her father had declared himself the rightful king of Westeros there had been nothing but trouble for her and her family. First they had had to remain shut up in Dragonstone whilst there was so much happening on the mainland, and then that strange red lady came and began speaking about how her father was her god’s chosen one, which made everyone go into frenzy apart from her father. And then when father had tried to take the throne, he had been beaten and some had whispered that that was because he had not taken the red woman with him, whilst others Devan included said it was because the Lannisters had used tricks to beat him. The red woman remained at Dragonstone and continued to hound her father about this, that and the other, until father had left for the north in order to gain more support. He had never come back and when news of father’s death had reached them, mother had howled and the red woman had offered mother up to her red god for sacrifice, just as the Lannisters had entered Dragonstone. The Lannisters had laid siege to Dragonstone for quite some time, and food had begun growing scarcer and scarcer, so much so that many people had been sacrificed to the red woman’s god so as to appease him and yet that did nothing and the siege had continued, until it no longer did. Her mother dead, the red woman fled, Shireen had been brought back to King’s Landing and made to live as a hostage.

When she returned to King’s Landing, she found not all that different to how it had been when she was last there. It still smelled bad, was too overcrowded and filled with people who spoke flatteries instead of the truth. The only major difference was that Tommem her cousin- or as her father had said, not her cousin- was now King, and he had grown in the time they had been apart. He was no longer plump and short, he was tall and muscular and more handsome than Joffrey had ever been. His wife, Margaery was a kind lady, she knew how to make Shireen feel comfortable and welcomed. Life in King’s Landing was sewing, and spending time with Margery as one of her ladies, learning what she could about life as it was now for those who were living in court. She knew about Queen Cersei’s fall from grace and her mental illness, about Sansa Stark’s disappearance from the world, and the trouble in the north and the Riverlands. And then it was announced that she would be betrothed to Martyn Lannister a cousin of the king, and be given Storm’s End, the castle her father had always grumbled was his by right of birth.

Their marriage had taken place some three moons ago, once she had flowered. It was one with no great pomp just a short ceremony in the sept of Baelor, and then they were off riding to Storm’s End through the snow and the wind and rain. Martyn was a nice man, he was kind and easy to talk to, but there was nothing beyond an uneasy friendship between the two of them, considering how neither of them truly wished for their marriage, and yet both were doing it more out of a sense of duty, to their king. Whom Shireen had not really spoken to during her time in King’s Landing, largely due to the confusion she felt. According to law Tommem was the rightful king but according to her father he had been the rightful king and as his heir, she was now the rightful Queen of Westeros. Thus meaning that if she wanted to fulfil her father’s wishes she either needed to see Tommem and Myrcella dead before they could have children, a thought that pained her, or she needed to organise a marriage between one of her and Tommem’s children. Of course with the siege that was happening outside Storm’s End just now she doubted that it would matter really. Her husband walked into the solar, his hair a mess and his eyes tired. “How is it looking Martyn?” she asked.

Her husband sat down next to her and sighed. “Very badly Shireen. I do not think we can expect any aid from King’s Landing. None of the letters we have sent asking for aid have actually been able to get past their archers. I saw three of our ravens shot down right before my eyes. We are running low on food and water, and the garrison is already considering dropping all and having us delivered to those outside our doors.”

“Is it truly the Targaryens? I heard Maester Ballard saying so, but I was not sure. After all no one has heard anything from the Targaryens in over a decade now.” Shireen asked.

Martyn is silent for a moment and then he says. “I do believe so. They do not fly the Targaryen banners, but there are roars heard during the daylight hours that can be none other than dragon roars. Two to be precise. That they have not tried to use the dragons to take Storm’s End shows just how uncertain they are as to how long we can hold out for. This to me suggests they do not have all the supplies that they need.”

Shireen nods and then asks. “So do you think we can outlast them or not?”

“I do not know my lady. We do not have enough supplies to last through until the new year, and considering that is only three moons away, I am worrying slightly. With this siege, we are unable to head out into the woods and get what supplies we need. Maester Ballard told me he spotted the banners of the Conningtons and the other houses of Cape Wrath and the Rainwood present, which suggests to me that soon enough the Marcher lords will join these Targaryen pretenders, whether they be real or not.” Martyn replies.

Shireen is about to speak when they both hear a loud roar, and the sound of flapping wings and the sound of fire. “What on earth was that?” Shireen asks her voice shaking slightly.

Martyn is pale white when Shireen looks at him. “I think that was the sign that the Targaryens are beginning to mean business.”

As soon as he says that there is another roar and then another blast, and the sound of men screaming. “Martyn was is happening?” Shireen all but screams.

Her husband gets up and walks towards the door, before he leaves he looks at her and says. “Do not leave here until I come back okay?”

Shireen nods and watches her husband leave the room. She waits in silence for what seems like an eternity, listening to the sounds of screaming and what she assumes are dying men, feeling her fear grow and grow. She remembers the tales of Harrenhal that she heard as a child and she remembers the strength and power that seemed to come from the Red Woman’s flames and she fears for both her and her husband’s safety. She sees a dark shadow pass over the window , and her fear turns to reality, that was most definitely a dragon! She is about to rise to see where her husband is when he returns with Maester Ballard. He looks pale and scared. “What is it?” Shireen asks. “What has happened?”

Martyn says in a shaky voice. “They are using their dragons to melt the walls of Storm’s End. They have already burnt down the outer defences. They are trying to burn us out Shireen. We must go.”

Shireen nods but before she stands she asks. “Where will we go?”

Her husband looks at her and his voice is choked when he says. “I know not.”


	31. The Crippled Sun

**Prince Doran Nymeros Martell**

For nearly twenty five years he had ruled as the Prince of Dorne. It was a title that was at times both rewarding and frustrating. His people were a mix of personalities and temperaments and it required a skilled hand to make sure that they were not working against one another. Doran had grown up watching his mother Princess Arianne deal with the complex web of intrigue and fieriness and had marvelled at how composed she had remained for her time as the ruling Princess. His father Ser Maltor Dayne had been her enforcer a strong soldier, nearly as good if not better than his brother Ullrick who had been the sword of the morning before Ser Arthur, and together they had made quite the team. His mother had died before Elia had married Rhaegar, and if she had lived Doran often wondered what she would have made of the match that so many had coveted.  Doran had met his goodbrother perhaps four times during the course of his sister’ marriage and each time he had come away feeling confused about what to make of the man who was at turns charming and then melancholic.  Of course what the man had done at Harrenhal and later on with the Stark girl had been one transgression too far, but still all these years later Doran often wondered how things would have been if Elia had perhaps married that Hightower lad.

In his own reign as Prince of Dorne, Doran had faced the times after his mother and father’s deaths, and then the outrage after his sister and her children’s deaths. The whole kingdom had wanted blood, and they had nearly gotten their wish. Doran had been sorely tempted to allow Oberyn to raise the banners and revolt in the name of Viserys Targaryen, but then had decided against it, and he had borne the resentment of half of Dorne for the rest of his life. Even his own daughter had thought him weak and craven, that was until he had told her it all, the plan to see her as Queen to Viserys Targaryen and how he had craved revenge, and how Oberyn had been building up many an alliance in King’s Landing in the years he had been away.  Still there were things he had not told her, things she did not need to know not now. Not with the current conflict waging, though there were things they needed to discuss, Arianne, Oberyn and himself, and that was why he had called them both to his solar to discuss these matters. As they both sat down, Arianne to his right and Oberyn to his left, he took a sip of wine and then spoke slowly. “There have been some very interesting developments in the rest of Westeros as of late. Tommem Baratheon remains on the throne, the Lannister-Tyrell alliance grows stronger, and yet there is trouble brewing in the Stormlands and in the Riverlands. Daenaerys Targaryen and her husband a man claiming to be Aegon Targaryen have taken Storm’s End and with it most of the Stormlands. And yet they have not yet managed to drive down the threat of Shireen Baratheon and her Lannister husband. In the riverlands, Brynden Tully continues to defy the Lannisters and has declared his great nephew Prince Eddard Stark King of the Trident. Now whilst the issue of the Riverlands is an interesting one, I am more concerned about the Stormlands. Oberyn what do your contacts say about this boy with Daenaerys?”

His brother was silent for a moment and then he said. “They say that the boy looks much like a Targaryen, and the fact that he has bonded with one of the girl’s dragons only adds strength to his claim of being our sister’s son. And yet that he was kept hidden for so long amongst sellswords and exiles is somewhat suspicious.”

“You cannot be thinking of allying with Daenaerys Targaryen though father surely? She is the reason Quentyn is dead. Her and her lack of control over her people and dragons.” Arianne said.

Doran was silent for a moment and then said. “I would not like to, Quentyn’s death still hurts. And that I sent him there, only for him to be so brutally rejected only makes the wound sting more. And yet there is a chance that the Targaryens might just yet be our source of revenge and success that we have waited all these years for.”

Oberyn spoke then his voice heated. “We put our trust in the Targaryens last time there was a war in Westeros, and that time Elia and her children died. And whilst I would like nothing more than to be the one to lead the charge into the Red Keep, I will not do it for a feigned boy and a whore of a Queen. No it is time we stuck to our guns and kept to our own motto as the Yellow Toad did in her day.”

“And what would that be nuncle?” Arianne asked. “Would you have us remain firmly behind Tywin Lannister and his grandson?”

Doran spoke then and he said. “No, we shall not be remaining behind Tommem and Tywin. We shall test the Lannister loyalty, soon enough Trystane and Princess Myrcella shall marry, and when they do we shall have a claim on the throne. But of course, Shireen and Martyn Lannister remain in the Stormlands, and Stannis Baratheon always did seem a much more just man than Tywin Lannister. Oberyn I want you to lead the men gathered in the Boneway to the Stormlands, where you shall go on a raiding campaign. Should either the Targaryen or the Lannister forces attack you fight them and say you fight for one or the other, but give no definitive answer.” His brother nodded and Doran continued looking at Arianne. “As for you Arianne, it is time we began the first stage of the plan we discussed. You, Nymeria and Tyene shall go to Oldtown and from there to Highgarden, it is time we paid Willas Tyrell a visit, and remind him of the debt he owes us.”


	32. The Winter Sun

**King Wallace I Stark**

The north was in the grips of winter, snow was nearly shoulder deep when one walked, and yet there was peace at last. The civil war that had gripped the north following the Red Wedding had ended two years ago when Roose Bolton had died from his wounds and his daughter Lyarra had gracefully surrendered. After that the rebuilding process had taken up most of Wallace’s time, rebuilding Winterfell had taken nearly a year and then ensuring that his people had enough food and wood to see them through what might very well be the longest winter in living memory took another year.  There was a lot of negotiating required as most of the northern lords found that their old grudges with one another came back to life without a common enemy in the south to focus on, and so Wallace spent much of his time travelling between various northern keeps restoring the peace, with the return of the Greatjon Umber and some other lords who had been kept in prison in the Twins, peace came back much easier than it had done before. With a calm and steady presence there, Wallace was able to cement himself with the lords and make them see who and what he was. The rumours he had heard of him being likened to a northern Tywin Lannister were somewhat disconcerting but also oddly flattering, for it meant his men respected him and feared him, which in this time of winter was what was needed.

His relationship with his wife- and yes he could now think of her as his wife- had matured a lot in this time. Arya had grown into a beautiful and strong minded woman, who Wallace counted himself lucky to know and be married to. She was smart and often managed to win over men and women with a joke or a laugh, and often made his workload easier. Arya was now a woman flowered, and had seen her fifteenth nameday some four moons ago, and as a result of the wine and the feast and the general jovial attitude, their marriage had been consummated, something that had greatly relieved Wallace as now the talk of heirs was put to rest as was his innate desire for her, and the woman she had become. That she was growing big with his child only made him desire her more and made him love her all the more as well. Of course there were certain things that they needed to discuss that meant that for now even though all he wanted to do was slip into bed with her, they needed to speak. And so as they both were sat in his solar, Arya sat in his lap, he spoke softly. “There has been word from the south. It appears that Brynden Tully has finally shown his true colours and the reason behind all these revolts he’s been holding in the Riverlands.”

“Hmm, and what is this reason then?” Arya asks.

Wallace takes a deep breath and says. “He claims to be doing it for Robb’s son Eddard Stark who he has declared as King of the Trident. He has written to me saying that for now he does not wish to lay claim to Winterfell for Eddard, but that he hopes for our support should the Lannisters threaten the Riverlands.”

Arya perks up then and exclaims. “What?! Robb had a son and we are only just learning about this? How old is the boy and who is his mother?”

Wallace sighs. “Jeyne Westerling is the mother, and Eddard is four years old. According to my sources the boy looks just like his father, just like Robb. The Blackfish assures me that he does not mean to lay claim to Winterfell, he merely wants our reassurance that we will support him should the Lannisters try and threaten the Riverlands or Eddard.”

Arya snorted then and said. “Were the man not my mother’s uncle I would doubt the truth of his words. But seeing as he is, I shall, but still Wallace we shall need to be very careful that word of Eddard’s existence does not become common knowledge, for there are those who would use that against you. Especially Lyarra Bolton, that woman is far too clever by half, as is her aunt Barbrey Dustin. Both would try and use this information for their own gains.”

“I know my love, and I have taken steps to ensure that word of his existence never does get out. Of course sooner or later we shall have to deal with the issue, but for now I am content to just let things settle a bit more. Now there has been more news from the south, it appears that Willas Tyrell means to wed my sister Alyssa.” Wallace said.

“And would your mother allow such a thing?” Arya asked.

Wallace was silent thinking for a moment before he said. “Aye, if she thought it could benefit the family and the Vale. I believe it would make sense to bring some sort of peace and stability to the realm now, the Targaryens are threatening the Lannisters in the Stormlands, Dorne has marshalled as well. The Reach needs allies, and the Vale is best placed for that. With the Reach onside the Riverlands will be safe and Morton’s children can be raised at Iron Oaks, far away from the Ironborn and the Lannisters.”

“And what news has there been from the Eyrie?”Arya asked.

Wallace sighed and said. “Harry writes that Robert Arryn’s health is worsening the lad does not seem able to move from his sick bed most days. His mother grows distraught and still there is talk that someone working for Lord Baelish is making it harder for the boy to recover. Soon enough Harry will become Lord of the Vale and when he does Sansa and their daughter will become very important people. Precautions will need to be made and King’s Landing will need to be kept in the dark.”

Arya nods and then asks in a small voice. “Wallace, what will happen if this child of ours is a girl?”

Wallace looks at his wife and says. “Then she shall be my heir and that is the end of that.”


	33. Reap What You Sow

**Asha Greyjoy**

How had it come to this? They had been winning their war, the Shield Islands had fallen, and her people had proclaimed her their true and rightful Queen, and then the Arbor had fallen and with it had come plunder and wine. From there it had gone downhill, she realised that now, they had tried to spread their conquest far too quickly, they had tried to take Oldtown and been repelled and the Iron Fleet had burned down and her uncle Victarion with it. The Hightowers were not the lords of the Shield Islands; they had been kings once and knew the threat of the Ironborn well. Asha had overestimated her strength and now she sat in a cell somewhere in the flowery Reach rotting away whilst her babes were kept in some greenlanders nursery. Her babes, she had been heavily pregnant when they had taken the Arbor, and then when the Redwyne fleet had attacked and then captured her and her men that she was with child was the only reason she was kept alive whilst the rest of her men were killed. In a comfortable room she had been placed and attended to, and then when she had given birth to her twins Balon and Urrigon, they had been ripped from her arms and she had been thrown in a cell.

She had been in the cell for some time before being moved from to another one and then another one, constantly on the move with no idea of where exactly she was nor of what was happening outside the four walls of the cell she was in. The guards barely spoke to her apart from to taunt her and laugh at her, that they had not tried anything on with her was a deep surprise, had they been Ironborn guards something most definitely would have happened. But still the boredom kept going and only the thought of her children kept her strong, and so when she was dragged from her cell and brought into a big room where a man sat looking at her not with condensation but with curiosity she found herself most concerned and intrigued as to what fate had in store for her now.  The man did not stand but his voice carried. “Lady Asha, it is a pleasure to meet you at last. I am Willas Tyrell, heir to Highgarden and currently acting in my father’s stead as the ruling Lord of the Reach. You have been brought before me today, to answer for crimes of treason against the crown. What do you have to say to these accusations?”

Asha was silent and then she said. “They are not treason if the person committing them does not recognise the authority of the person accusing them of doing such.” There was a ripple of murmuring then, once it stopped Asha continued. “When my father raised his banners in revolt, he showed that he no longer accepted the right of the Iron Throne to rule the Iron Islands, and as such all charges laid against him and his became null and void. As his successor and the rightful Queen of the Islands, the same applies to me. You can try and claim treason all you want Lord Tyrell, but your charges will always fall short.”

Asha looked up and Tyrell smiling, the sight angered her. “But that is where you are wrong my lady. You gave up your rights to the Islands when King Tommem declared you a traitor, your own family has taken your place and as such as decided that the isles are best kept back in with the Iron Throne.”

Which family he meant she knew not, the Reader would never do that to her, but the Damphair, well he might just do that. “And which one did you get to do that for you cripple?” Asha taunted hoping to force the man into making a comment out of anger. “The reader or the mad man? The Ironborn will never follow either of them, they are too proud to follow a book worm and too sensible to follow a man who spews nonsense left right and centre.”

Willas Tyrell smiled another dangerous smile then and said. “Oh no, not either of those two. But a man who seemed to have remembered who it was that raised the Ironborn up to greatness in the first place. Your father’s cousin , Dagon Greyjoy. He is the new Lord of the Iron Islands and as such has spent much of his time repairing the isles for the winter that has hit us all so hard.”

Asha was stunned into silence for a long time before saying. “But my uncle, he’s been dead  for many years now. He died when my grandfather still lived. How, how did you find him?”

Tyrell smiled and said. “The Iron Throne has its ways of getting what it wants. But now that you know what has happened in your home, you will want to know what will happen to your children I take it?”

Asha merely looked at the man, and waited for him to continue. “Your children will be raised here in Highgarden where my betrothed will see to their upbringing. Her brother was their father after all and as such it makes sense for them to be raised here rather than elsewhere. When the time comes your uncle has agreed to hand the reigns of the Isles over to them and to make their life easier, they shall be fostered in Pyke from the age of ten. As to you, my lady I am afraid your time is up. Do you have any last words?”

Asha looked at the man and in a voice filled with as much anger and loathing as she could muster said. “You might think you have won now Tyrell, but soon enough this whole plan will backfire and the whole of Westeros shall know the truth of our words. We Do Not Sow, and soon you shall all be consumed in fire and steel. The Ironborn shall be free and nothing you do can change that.”


	34. The Boy King

**King Tommem I Baratheon**

Winter was still going strong, it had been doing so for the past five years, in that time Tommem had seen many things happen, his uncle had married Sansa Stark and then had been accused of murdering Joffrey, and Sansa had fled only to reappear some years later in the Vale. Joffrey had wed Margaery and then died on the night of his wedding to her; Tommem had then wed Margaery and had seen his mother descend into madness. Many thought he did not remember what had happened to his mother following Joffrey’s death due to his young age, but it was because of that he remembered all of it, his mother’s rants and her drinking and all of it had made him despise drink and anything remotely associated with his mother. Cersei Lannister was a silent sister now on Dragonstone, Tommem knew but he had never bothered to ask to see her, he was far happier spending time with Margaery and with his kittens and with the Tyrells than he had ever been with his mother or even his grandfather. He was no longer as afraid of his grandfather as he had been when he was younger, he respected his grandfather for what he had done for their family and for how he ruled and yet he no longer shook with fear whenever his grandfather looked at him or spoke to him. He had Margaery to thank for that, she had taught him how to be brave and Ser Loras had taught him how to fight. It was fair to say that the two Tyrells had done much to improve his confidence and for that he would always be grateful. In fact it was them who had suggested he attend council meetings and after having asked his grandfather, his grandfather had agreed and so Tommem was now attending his first council meeting as a proper attendee.

The members of the council had been much the same for the five years of his reign, his grandfather served as hand of the king and regent, his great uncle Ser Kevan Lannister as master of laws, Lord Petyr Baelish served as master of coin, his goodfather Lord Mace Tyrell served as master of ships and Lord Varys served as master of whispers with Grand Maester Pycelle and Ser Loras Tyrell as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard rounding off the party. Once he had sat down Tommem bid the other members sit and then spoke. “My lords, I thank you for allowing me to see how the court and kingdom is run. I will simply observe proceedings for now. SO please do begin.”

Tommem looked and saw his grandfather give him a nod of approval. Lord Tywin Lannister then cleared his throat and began to list what needed to be discussed. “Thank you Your Grace. Now there are three matters of importance. These being the Targaryens, the issue of the Ironborn succession and finally the Dornish.” He paused and then turned to Lord Varys and asked. “Varys, what news is there on the Targaryen front?”

Lord Varys was silent for a moment and then he said. “The Targaryens hold Storm’s End and all of the Stormlands my lord hand. The Stormlords have all bent the knee to them some reluctantly, some willingly. They are now turning their sights onto getting support from the Riverlords and as such have sent an envoy to Riverrun to speak to Brynden Tully.”

Tommem saw his grandfather nod before he asked. “And what has happened to the Dornish contingent under Oberyn Martell have they retreated back to Dorne as they were asked to do?”

Varys is silent for a moment and then says. “They have indeed my lord hand. Prince Doran has written to say that his brother and some 2,000 spears will remain in the passes as protection against the Targaryens. After what happened to Prince Quentyn in Meeren, Prince Doran has assured me that he does not mean to declare for the Targaryens.”

Tommem sees his grandfather nod, and then he turns to Lord Mace and asks him. “And now Lord Mace what of the Ironborn, we know that Asha Greyjoy is dead and her babes are being raised by your son and gooddaughter. But has there been any word from Lord Redwyne about the situation on the Iron Islands?”

Lord Mace was silent for a moment and then said. “It seems there might be more civil war on the islands my lord hand. The Ironborn might be broken and defeated but they are not taking kindly to having the Greyjoy man the throne installed as the regent ruling them. They wish to be free and yet without their ships they are nothing, and so my goodbrother writes that they are fighting in the streets and drinking themselves away to oblivion. In short all is going according to plan.”

“Good,” Tywin Lannister replied. “Tell Lord Redwyne that it is time to initiate the final stage of the plan. I want the streets of Pyke, Harlaw and Old Wyk running with blood, and I want them to know the cost of rebelling in the first place. We shall show them what Robert Baratheon should have shown them.”

Lord Mace nodded and then Lord Baelish spoke up his voice confident and sly. “My lord hand, Your Grace. It gives me some pleasure to announce that there has been word from the Vale. Our plan has worked, Robert Arryn is dead and the Vale seems ready to split into war, with Harry the heir as its lord.”

Tommem saw his grandfather threaten to smile then, his voice was calm though when he replied. “That is good, soon enough they shall realise that they are needed to play a more important role in the kingdoms. And when that comes around we shall finish off this nonsense that the Blackfish has going on with an independent riverlands. We shall need to make sure that Eddard Stark is taken away from Riverrun soon, and placed under the command of someone who is loyal to the Iron Throne and who has the most to gain.”

At that Lord Baelish spoke up once more and said. “Lord Bracken still brews in his castle due to the insults he feels were dealt to him when the Blackfish took away parts of his lands for siding with the throne. Perhaps we could get him to do the deed with a little bit of persuasion?”

His grandfather is silent for a moment and then says. “Look into it and tell me what you find. Bracken is prickly but he is not without sense, and perhaps that is what the Riverlands need.”


	35. Ballad of William Kidd

**Ser Brynden Tully**

Ruling the Riverlands as regent for his great, great nephew King Eddard Stark was a lot of effort, something that he had never truly thought he would have to do. Growing up he had never truly paid much attention to the business of ruling the lands, after all that had been Hoster’s duty as the heir, and his older brother had never been one to share much in the way of responsibility. So Brynden had spent his time training with his sword and learning the way of warfare, so that he could serve as his brother’s strong right hand when battle came as it so often did in the Riverlands, just as his own uncle Edwyn had done for their father. There were challenges that needed to be dealt with, lords who needed placating for whatever reason, and there were people who wished for their petty differences to be heard. It was all quite infuriating and yet Brynden had never been one to shirk his duty and so he did all that needed to be done and he did it well as he had always done whatever he had set his mind to. The riverlands were at peace for now, and their defences were as strong as they could ever hope to be, with border castles set up near the Westerlands and the Reach and the Crownlands. There had been other things that Brynden had needed to do as well to ensure that his king’s kingdom was secure within its own territories, and that had been to marry, something he had sworn he would never do after his brother had wed his first love Minisa. Jonos Bracken was one of the most powerful lords in the Riverlands and had become very angry when Brynden had taken some of his lands away from him following his surrender to the Lannisters. And so he had wed the man’s eldest daughter Barbara Bracken, she was a smart young woman who knew her way around the Riverlands and the politics of the court life better than he did. And that she was with child also helped matters as well.

With that all done, Brynden now had enough time to consider possible betrothal options for King Eddard, who was the rightful king of the north as his father King Robb’s eldest son. As such though he knew that Wallace Waynwood was a good and honourable man, he was a king and kings did tend to see others with a better claim as a threat to them, and so he regarded the young man with much suspicion. As such he had called a meeting of some of the men he trusted with ruling the riverlands, Maester Vyman, Lord Jonos Bracken and Ser Alton Rivers were all present in the lord’s solar as Brynden unrolled the letter that had come from Winterfell. “I thank you all for coming. As you know I have been corresponding with Wallace Waynwood for sometime about the possibility of wedding King Eddard to his daughter Princess Lyarra, as such the lad has responded saying that he is open to the idea. But that there have been some changes to the terms of the deal he wishes. His wife Lady Arya has given birth to a son whom they have named after the Young Wolf, and as such the lad wishes to name his son as his heir, and leave King Eddard as King of the Trident. I would hear your thoughts on the matter before I send a response.”

Jonos Bracken was quick onto the ball to voice his view. “I believe King Eddard should remain as the King of the Trident as well as being King of the North. After all by the laws of gods and men he is the rightful heir to King Robb, and as such Wallace Waynwood has no rightful claim to the throne anymore. Only the Lady Arya does and I am sure she would be more than happy to see her nephew on the throne of her brother.”

Maester Vyman spoke then his voice measured and calm as always. “Whilst that would normally be the case, I do believe this is the first time in our history that a King’s bodily heir has been born following their father’s death. As such the word of law that is King Robb’s will and testament gives Wallace the legitimacy of rule over the north and the Trident should he so wish to pursue the claim. By virtue of his marriage to Lady Arya as well he has a more legitimate claim to the winter throne in Winterfell.  Furthermore, Wallace has spent more time with the northern lords rebuilding the north and fighting by their side in doing so, that will earn him their loyalty more than a mere child could ever hope to garner.”

Brynden did have to admit that as much as he might not like to admit it, Vyman did have a point sighing he said. “So what would you suggest then Maester?”

Vyman was silent for a moment and then he said. “I would suggest perhaps wedding King Eddard to Lady Minisa and thus strengthening his grace’s hold on the Riverlands. For if I remember correctly, Wallace Waynwood shall not budge on this matter, not unless there is a threat of dragonfire.”

Ser Alton Rivers spoke then his voice harsh and his words straight and to the point. “Nonsense, do that and we let the Lannisters see that we shall cave in at the slightest demand. Already they tried to turn the lords against King Eddard, we must see the King wed to Princess Lyarra and it must happen soon enough.”

Jonos Bracken nodded eagerly. “Aye that would make the most sense, do that and the two claims will be united. Wallace Waynwood’s son can then be wed to either Lady Minisa and named Lord of Riverrun or perhaps a match between him and Catelyn Arryn the daughter of Harrold and Sansa Arryn could be suggested?”

Brynden nodded and then said in summary. “Very well then thank you for giving your views on the matter. I shall make my decision soon enough. For now though I would hear what has been happening with the Targaryens and the Lannisters.”

Ser Alton spoke then and said. “There is fighting in the Stormlands and the Crownlands, the Targaryens have not yet used their dragons in any of the fighting but the envoys that were sent to various places in the Riverlands have been detained as per your orders my lord. The Dornish are remaining neutral refusing to declare for any side, and there is a small faction that seems like it will fight for Shireen Baratheon within the Stormlands. The Vale has also declared itself independent now as well.”

Brynden nodded and said. “Very well, keep me informed of any sudden movements from the south or the west. I shall need to speak with these envoys as well, and send a raven to the Vale asking them for some aid as well.”


	36. The Negative One

**King Aegon VI Targaryen**

He had waited his whole life to come to Westeros to come and reclaim what was rightfully his, his whole life had been dedicated to learning how to rule and to rule well. He knew more about the history and the people of Westeros than those who actually lived here. He had fought in battles before, with the Golden Company and he had done well there, always as Young Griff.  And then they had met his aunt and from there they had wed and begun their campaign. At first it had been relatively easy, they had taken Cape Wrath and Greenstone with little to no struggle, and the lords there were either so tired of Lannister rule or not wanting Stannis Baratheon ruling them that they had sworn their swords to the Targaryen cause easy enough. The dragons helped as well Aegon supposed though they had been wary about using them, especially with Viserion still not having a rider. Before they took Storm’s End Aegon had put the word out for any of the dragonseed that might still be around, he knew from Ser Barristan that his grandfather had been a very active man when it came to women, nowhere near as active as Aegon the Unworthy but still active, and sure enough a man named Aelix Storm the bastard of House Boiling had come forth and had bonded with Viserion and from there they had flown and taken Storm’s End forcing the Baratheon girl and her husband to flee. Once Storm’s End had fallen, the Stormlords either bent the knee or were burnt to dust, that prompted some resistance, and surprisingly a force from Dorne had invaded the Stormlands and had begun causing havoc. All of this was somewhat a problem but eventually was overcome when the Dornish retreated behind their mountains and had shut up shop. A force from the Reach led by a man named Randyll Tarly had come and caused some havoc but they had been easily dealt with. No the real challenge was just ahead, the Stormlords or what were left of them had sworn their strength to the true cause and from Storm’s End they had marched for King’s Landing though, Aegon had left Daenaerys and their son Daeron as well as his uncle Aelix behind to aid them in escape should it come to that.

At present a war council had been called to discuss how best to fight the Lannister force that was currently marching towards them. Gathered in the tent, were Hand of the King Lord Jon Connington, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard Ser Barristan Selmy, Lord Eustace Boiling, Ser Malcolm Foote, Lord Selwyn Tarth and Lord Eldon Estermont. Aegon spoke first. “My lords I thank you all for coming. We are closing in on our objective, soon enough King’s Landing shall be ours and from there we can go about sorting out the mess the Lannisters have made. First of all though, I must ask what news our scouts have brought us.”

Foote spoke then his voice waving as always. “Well Your Grace, we managed to capture some twenty outriders from the Lannister party. From what we have managed to get from them, Tywin Lannister himself and three members of the Kingsguard of the pretender shall be leading the Lannister host. Which numbers some 6,000 men. With the help of your dragon we should have more than enough power to bring them down and take the city.”

Aegon nodded pleased by what he had heard, Jon though was more curious. “The Lannisters have only 6,000 men within the city? 1,000 of those will be Goldcloaks and another 1,000 will be Red cloaks if what the Spiders has told us is true. But where are the rest of the forces from the Reach?”

Ser Barristan spoke then and his voice was calm. “It is possible that they are still dealing with incursions from the Dornish or the Ironborn. After all we know that the civil war in the Iron Islands has blown over into the Reach and many lords have risen up against House Tyrell. It is more than likely that Mace Tyrell and his dogs are there dealing with that problem.”

Aegon nods and says. “Aye, we shall concern ourselves with the Reach once King’s Landing has fallen. For now though Lord Rowan holds Storm’s End in my stead. Now as to how we take King’s Landing. Of course I shall be flying the aerial route, but Lord Connington shall take the Van, Lord Foote shall take the left, Lord Boiling the right and Lord Swann the reserve. We shall take King’s Landing. Kill all Lannisters that you come across, but leave Tywin Lannister and the boy king for me.”

After that the meeting ended and Aegon went to his tent and put his armour on, black as night with red rubies just like his father’s armour, he walked towards where Rhaegal was tethered and mounted up. Adrenaline was coursing through his veins as he waited for the sound of a horn being blown, when the horn was blown Rhaegal let loose a terrifying roar, and took off for the sky. As they began their ascent, Aegon could hear the sounds of the battle below, men fighting, dying and screaming. He knew that before the day was done, the ground would be littered with blood and bodies. He said a quick prayer and then spurred Rhaegal on, an arrow came whizzing past his head, and he scanned for where it had come from, using his whip to spur his dragon on, Rhaegal burned a path through the soldiers on the ground, killing them with the heat of the fire. The arrows kept coming, most of them flew harmlessly by, those that did not, merely skinned past, more of an annoyance than a true threat.

The fire kept raging and the bodies were growing and growing. Aegon felt the rush of battle flowing through him and he had never felt so alive. King’s Landing loomed close, and he knew that soon enough he would be seated on the Iron Throne.  The body count grew and grew, the screams continued rising and Aegon’s blood continued to rise, and then suddenly he was plummeting to the ground, Rhaegal was roaring and the ground was coming closer and closer. He touched his armour and found blood coming out of a wound from his chest, a scorpion bolt had come through Rhaegal taking him down to the ground and arrows were now littering his chest, the sky was turning dark. Aegon Targaryen, son of Rhaegar Targaryen, the King who could have been died on the twelfth day of the seventh month of the 305th year After Aegon’s Landing. Killed by Martyn Lannister.


	37. Crimson Day

**Lord Martyn Lannister**

The war with the Targaryens was done; Aegon Targaryen had died by his hand, the man’s dragon as well. That had given Martyn a lot of satisfaction, especially when he remembered the fact that the man he had killed was the one responsible for driving he and his pregnant wife out of their home in the first place. Following Targaryen’s death, there had been a moment of uncertainty where everyone had been unsure as to what would happen, and then Ser Barristan Selmy the Lord Commander of the Targaryen Kingsguard led a charge through their ranks and began a counter attack. It would have succeeded had it not been for Martyn’s uncle Lord Tywin and his swift thinking brain that saw Selmy and those who rode with him cut down in a blaze of fire. His uncle and his father had both died during the battle, his father killed by Jon Connington and his uncle from his wounds taken during the battle. After that battle, King’s Landing was secured, but there were still those who claimed loyalty to the Targaryens in the Stormlands and Daenaerys Targaryen and her son were in his castle, and so with King Tommem’s permission he rode out with what was left of the Lannister strength and dealt with those who were foolish enough not to realise when their time was done. Martyn was the one to kill Matthis Rowan and those of the Kingsguard who were sent to block his way. They reclaimed Storm’s End and the Stormlands, but Daenaerys Targaryen, her son and her bastard brother Aelix Targaryen as well as their two dragons escaped. A sour tasted but at least for now the war was done.

As it was with the war having taken many of the old guard away from the capital, through death- his father and uncle, Mace Tyrell, Randyll Tarly, Paxter Redwyne, Mathis Rowan- all of these were men seasoned in war from a very young age, but now Martyn and his generation were as well. And so King Tommem had decreed that his uncle Lord Tyrion be named hand of the king and return to court, which he had done so. The King and his uncle had then gone about appointing new members to the positions previously occupied by the stellar names of old. Martyn was named master of laws, Aurane Velaryon- the legitimized bastard of the Driftmark- was named master of ships, Petyr Baelish remained as master of coin, Grand Maester Pycelle was still there as were Lord Commander Ser Loras Tyrell and Master of Whispers Lord Varys. Martyn’s cousin had seen in his sixteenth nameday in the New Year, and as such had begun attending and deliberating matters of state in his own right. And as such had called a council meeting to discuss various issues. Tommem was tall and broad shouldered, with a mop of blonde hair, in some ways he seemed like Martyn’s cousin Jaime Lannister- who if rumour were to be believed was the king’s father, though Martyn was never sure what to make of that rumour- anyway Tommem was a good lad and would make a fine king. His voice was calm when he spoke. “My lords, I thank you all for coming today. We do have some very urgent business to discuss. Though the war with the Targaryens is over, and the civil war in the Reach done, there are still some very pressing issues that they have left behind. Uncle if you would begin.”

Lord Tyrion nodded at the king and unfurled a piece of paper. “Well, Lord Willas has written that those houses that rose in rebellion against House Tyrell include: House Florent, House Appleton, House Meadows, House Peake and House Osgrey. All of these houses have either been destroyed or have bent the knee. Lord Willas does ask what Your Grace wishes to do with those that have given over hostages, do you wish for them to grow up in the Reach under his care, or in King’s Landing under your supervision?”

The king was silent for a moment and then he said. “I believe it would be best if the hostages grew up in the Reach. That way we know they will have the loyalty that House Tyrell deserves and needs in order to keep the peace going throughout that realm. Now what news is there from the Iron Islands, has that issue been settled?”

Martyn had expected Lord Varys to speak and so was surprised when his cousin spoke again. “It has indeed been solved Your Grace. Rodrik Harlaw wrote me and his letter arrived this morning, those factions that sought to fight for independence have been crushed, and those that fought for something more have also been crushed. The factions that fought for the throne have triumphed and as such have agreed to see Lord Harlaw as the regent of the Isles until Balon and Urrigon Greyjoy come of age.”

Martyn saw his cousin nod and heard him say. “Very good, Pycelle, I want a raven sent to Lord Harlaw telling him of the throne’s approval of this and that should he need any more support he need just ask.” Pycelle nodded and Tommem went on. “Now, Lord Varys I have one question to ask of you. Where are the Targaryens?”

Lord Varys tittered slightly and then said. “My little birds have them at Pentos last but after that they seem to have gone their separate ways. Daenaerys Targaryen was seen flying with her infant son towards the east, whilst Aelix Targaryen was seen flying towards Bravos.”

Martyn heard Tyrion snort at that. “Then Aelix is a bigger fool than I imagined. If they are trying to gather support and sellswords, they are going about it in completely the wrong way. Bravos hates the dragonlords, they shall never give the Targaryens what they want. And is the fat cheesemonger who runs Pentos not your friend Varys?”

The eunuch tittered uncomfortably and said. “No my lord hand. I assure you I have never had any dealings with Illyrio Mopatis, nor shall I ever have dealings with him.”

 _Liar._ Martyn thought, but he said nothing. The king merely nodded and said. “Very well then, when you hear more about them let us know. We have other more important matters to discuss. Lord Baelish where are we on the loan repayments to the Iron Bank?”

The little worm that Martyn thought the master of coin was, wormed slightly and said. “Very badly Your Grace. This last war has cost the throne some 800,000 gold dragons, of to which we only have some 200,000 of our own to pay the bank back with. The rest we shall have to borrow from the Reach and the Westerlands, or raise taxes and risk facing more open rebellion.”

“Surely there must be another way in which the throne can get money? Other than having to borrow more and put itself in even more debt?” Martyn asked.

Lord Baelish looked at him as if he had grown a second head. “Well in case you had not noticed Lord Martyn, the Westerlands, the Reach, Dorne and the Stormlands are the only kingdoms still truly under the throne’s control. The north has always been a barren wasteland but it is big and was a big source of timber tax, it is now free and independent, the Vale has declared independence and has sealed off its ports to our ships. And the Iron Islands are falling apart more and more every day. We can only get the money we need from the sources available to us. And the Riverlands are blocking the way from the Westerlands.”

Martyn sighed and said. “And to make it so that they do not we shall need to bring more war to Westeros, something that we can ill afford as it is.”

To his surprise his cousin spoke then, his voice strong sounding. “I do not agree with that assessment. The Riverlords are uncertain of what is happening; there is tension between the King in the North and the Blackfish. There is tension between the King in the Vale and the King in the North. If we attack the Riverlands in quick bursts, akin to what the Dornish are used to doing we can take much of their wealth before they know it. It will take time for the Vale and the North to mobilise, and I am not sure they will want to.”

Martyn spoke then. “But that would be suicide my lord. We do not have the numbers, and we don’t have the will power to go on like that. Another war and people shall revolt.”

Tyrion looked at him then and said. “We cannot afford to default on a loan to the bank, if we do then we shall have to deal with worse than a revolt by peasants. The lords in the kingdoms left to us should be hungry enough for glory and revenge as well. If Your Grace were to use that, then we could be successful.”

There is silence as they wait for the king to speak, when he does Martyn’s heart sinks. “Then we had best begin planning this invasion then.”

Perhaps his father was right and Shireen should have been sitting the throne.


	38. We Three Kings

****

**King Wallace I Stark**

Winter raged on in the north, and yet they stayed strong, whilst there had been war upon war in the south these past few years, the north had seen peace and a return to something akin to stability, something it had had before King Robert had ridden north all those years ago to name Eddard Stark hand of the king. That the north was at peace and that his people had enough food and shelter to see them through what had been a very long winter, was enough for Wallace to feel proud over.  That whatever tensions had lingered between the various lords sworn to Winterfell had since settled and the north was united as a front once more. Something that Wallace was very happy about considering how things with the other kingdoms were looking, relations with those kingdoms still sworn to the Iron throne were tense at best, and openly hostile at worst. Relations with the Riverlands and the Vale both kingdoms that had members of Wallace’s family in them, were complicated. Whilst Wallace wished that both kingdoms remained safe and sound, they often sent men there trying to force Wallace into making decisions he was not comfortable with making and as such he never truly trusted anyone from either of the kingdoms that came to visit not even his own brother Donnel who was sent like a lapdog by Harrold Arryn to discuss something or the other. Wallace’s family though was safe and secure behind a now impenetrable Winterfell, something that he had made sure of by having people attempt to break in and then having them felled before they could find any weak spots. His relationship with Arya had never been better, she had grown into a lovely and fierce young woman who was not afraid to take what she wanted. Their two children were growing bigger every day and it amazed Wallace at how quickly this all happened, little Lyarra was already two years old walking around and talking all the time, with everyone including him wrapped around her little finger. Their son Robb with his mop of dark brown hair and grey eyes looked exactly like Arya, but reminded Wallace more of himself when he first came to Winterfell though his son was only a year old.

A slight cough from behind him took him away from his pleasant thoughts, and sighing he looked at Maester Oswell, the new maester of Winterfell who had been sent some three years ago. Maester Oswell was a big broad man who would not have looked out of place in a giant’s game he supposed. Still they had important issues to discuss and so Wallace spoke. “Well Maester Oswell, what news have you brought me then?”

The maester shuffled around slightly before sitting in the chair opposite Wallace and saying softly. “There has been a raven from Castle Black Your Grace. From Lord Commander Marsh. He says that the wildlings are growing bolder, and that he fears that soon enough they shall begin raiding across the wall. He believes the Watch has insufficient strength to hold back such an invasion.”

Wallace snorts then. “So he is essentially grovelling for my help then is he? Does he still demand that I hand Jon back to him and his brothers for some sort of mockery of a trial?”

Oswell looks down at the letter and shakes his head. “No Your Grace, he merely asks that you consider his request and send aid as soon as possible.”

Wallace nods and says. “Very well then, tell him to keep me posted and at the first sighting of wildling movement to send a raven immediately, someone of the north shall answer his call. Now what other news do you have for me?”

Maester Oswell pulls out another letter and begins speaking. “This letter came from Highgarden Your Grace. From Lord Willas Tyrell. He writes that your brother’s sons are doing well and that they grow stronger every day. He also asks if you would wish for them to visit the north at some point in the near future.”

Wallace grits his teeth and takes a deep breath before saying. “You mean, he is reminding me that my nephews are essentially hostages to ensure that I cannot make a move southward yet. And that if I try and make it so that they can remain in Winterfell where they belong, and then he will kill them? Very well then, tell him that when they are old enough to make the journey by themselves they can come and visit. But before then I must know where are we on the plan to get them out of that hell hole?”

Maester Oswell is silent for a moment and then he says softly. “My contacts in the citadel are working as hard as they can to make sure what you desire can come true Your Grace. They need just a little bit more time that is all.”

Wallace feels the anger inside of him grow, and Thunder growls but then he calms down and says. “Very well, now what more news is there from the south?”

“There is Your Grace. Our spies report that the boy king on the throne plans on invading the Riverlands in order to make sure that he can take their supplies and clear away a route from which gold can come from the Golden Tooth into King’s Landing. For it seems the Iron Throne is running out of money at an alarming rate.” The maester said.

Wallace leans forward interested then. “Oh and how quickly can we mobilise troops to take whatever gold comes from the Westerlands, before it even leaves the place?”

The maester does a quick calculation and says. “About three weeks Your Grace.”

Wallace smiles and says. “Very well then write to Lord Ryswell, Dustin, Glover and Tallhart. Tell them to prepare men and write to Greywater Watch they shall be taking men across the pathways into the Westerlands using the old routes. Write to the Blackfish and inform him of what the Lannisters plan, perhaps we can work together to take this gold.”

* * *

 

**King Harrold I Arryn**

Winter he had been told often meant one thing, death. But so far the Vale had seen very little death and plenty of growth. Of course cousin Robert had died and Lady Lysa had cried but she had survived all the tragedy due to her little girl, and her little boy with cousin Donnel the four of them now lived near Ironoaks. The Vale was at peace, there was no trouble from the mountain clans anymore, not after Harry had called some men together and rousted them from their dens and lairs and put them all to the sword, some said that was too harsh a punishment that the clans were needed for order and balance. But Harry could never get over the story he had heard of his aunt Elyssa being carried away before her wedding and then how his own grandmother had died of a broken heart. The clans were gone and that was for the best. The lords of the Vale had come to accept him and his wife Sansa, whom he loved dearly. They respected him and they treated him as a continuation of an age old line rather than another line on the throne, something helped by the fact that he had taken the Arryn name and that his wife had managed to win everyone over. He truly loved Sansa, she was beautiful and charming and she always, always somehow knew how to win people over and how to say the right thing. They had been married for roughly four years now and in that time had had two daughters, Catelyn who was the spitting image of her mother with her auburn hair and blue eyes, and Alyssa who like Harry had blonde hair but her mother’s blue eyes. They were twins and were inseparable and seemed so much alike it was hard for him to tell them apart sometimes. He loved them all fiercely and would do anything to see them safe. Of course there were occasions when he thought that they might not remain safe forever, when he might need to break the promise he had made to Sansa. For her cousin and her sister Wallace and Arya Stark were being very, very stubborn about refusing to acknowledge the fact that Sansa and their children had the senior blood claim to Winterfell and that they were refusing all offers to unite the two claims. Harrold thought that his cousin was being very, very selfish and that he was trying to prevent what was right form happening, and if that was the case then he truly was no better than Tywin Lannister. It did not help he supposed that he had been living his whole life in Wallace’s shadow, the man had done so much in war and in politics that it was hard not to be impressed by him, something that also angered Harrold.

Though of course now with his councillors, Yohn Royce, Nestor Royce, Symond Templeton and his own cousin Anya Waynwood all present he could not afford to dwell on past insults or hurts. Clearing his voice and having a swig of water he spoke calmly. “I thank you all for coming. There are two important issues we must discuss. First of all, is the fact that Wallace Stark has finally seen sense and has agreed to a betrothal between his son Prince Robb and my daughter Princess Alyssa. The wedding shall take place once Alyssa has flowered, now that is done it removes the risk of potentially having a civil war break out between our two kingdoms once both myself and Wallace are dead. As it will help to secure our alliance and make us a formidable force. The question is, do you think the Riverlands more importantly the Blackfish will act on this news in a negative way?”

There was silence for a moment and then Bronze Yohn Royce spoke. “The blackfish is not a stupid man, he knows the Riverlands could not hope to stand against the combined might of both the Vale and the North and come out alive. He will allow the match to go ahead, for atleast it means two claims are better than one.”

Lady Anya though seemed to be of a different mind. “I am not so sure, the Blackfish might be older and wiser now, but he was once a callow youth, and he is not as young as he once was. Soon enough he will die or be removed from power and someone else will try and use young King Eddard as a tool with which to combine all their cards. We must make sure that the man remains healthy until all the children are at a certain age, or at least until winter is over.”

At his cousin’s words Harry grimaced and said. “Then I fear you might not like what news I now have to share with you. A raven arrived just this morning from our outposts on the border with the Crownlands. Lannister forces were seen marching from King’s Landing, with the objective of causing chaos in the Riverlands. King Tommem Baratheon leads the forces and they bring with them men from the Reach, the Stormlands and Dorne. The Blackfish will be sorely outnumbered if he tries to engage them in combat.”

“What could the Lannisters want in the Riverlands though?” Nestor Royce asked aloud. “After all, all the gold and riches are in the Westerlands and the Reach.”

“Because they need more ways in which to pay off their debt to the Iron Bank.” Harry said. “Because the Riverlands block anyway of the Westerlands being able to bring gold through land, and what with the Iron Islands still being so volatile bringing gold by land is the only possible, and that does mean the Riverlands must be less hostile.”

“So what will we do Your Grace?” Lady Anya asked. “Will we remain here and continue to store our soldiers and resources for something that will no longer come, or will we honour the auld alliance?”

Harry looked at his cousin and said strongly. “We shall fight my lady. It is time the Lannisters were dealt with once and for all.”

* * *

 

**Ser Brynden ‘The Blackfish’ Tully**

The Riverlands were largely stable now, the Freys were no more, those that had continued fighting were dead or at the Night’s Watch the women were septas or Silent Sisters. All else had bent the knee, winter had given the land time to heal, and time to grow back again. There was no longer a sense of dread or foreboding felt amongst the lords or smallfolk, all knew that they would make it through the winter. Trade was going well with the north and the Vale, and though Brynden was still frustrated by the fact that Wallace Stark had refused to wed his daughter to King Eddard he was at least relieved that the boy had seen sense and wed his son to Alyssa Arryn the daughter of his great niece Sansa. At least in that sense there would be less trouble once he was gone, for he was sure that sooner or later the tension over this issue would escalate quickly. He had arranged for King Eddard to wed Princess Catelyn Arryn in order to make sure the Riverlands and the Vale were still allies. The king was a good lad, quiet and calm unlike what his father had been, more like his mother who doted on him, he had fiery auburn hair and fiery blue eyes and was the joy of the whole castle and the whole of the riverlands. Brynden’s own marriage was doing well his wife was smart and capable and their son Edmyn was a smart boy, who though only a year old, Brynden knew would one day would be a force to be reckoned with.

Of course for now none of that mattered a war council had been called on the banks of the Tumblestones where they had met with the northmen who had marched through, intent on raiding the Westerlands and hitting the Lannister puppet where it hurt. Gathered in the command tent were Brynden, King Wallace Stark, Lords Bracken, Blackwood, Mallister, Vance, Piper, Glover, Ryswell, Reed and Karstark. Brynden spoke first. “Well my lords, Your Grace. We have information that there is a Lannister army under the command of one Ser Damion Lannister marching towards us, some 5,000 strong.”

“This is the problem with lions, they never seem to know when to stop breeding. I am surprised none of them have tried to take the Rock from the Imp.” Lord Karstark jested.

“What do we know of this Ser Damion? Is he able, or is he more like Ser Stafford? Will he fall for ploys or do we need to go for all out attacks on him and his men?” Wallace asked.

Brynden looked at the lad impressed that he was so focused, and remembering what was said of the man, thought that he should not have been so surprised. Aloud he simply said. “I believe that the man has very little battle experience my lords. He spent most of his time in the Rock or Lannisport, the first time he wielded a sword was during the Greyjoy rebellion some years ago. He will be relying on the council of men who have not seen the riverlands since the rebellion.”

“So if we can lure him into the banks of the Tumblestones we should be able to use the weather to bring him and his men down?” Wallace Stark asked.

Brynden was silent for a moment and then said. “Yes we could do that, though we would risk potentially bringing our own men into danger as well. The current in the river at this time of season is quite strong.”

Lord Vance spoke then and said. “There are places on the bank of the river, that can be used to ensure that we can see the enemy but they can’t see us. And in that case would lessen the need for a frontal attack. We have enough archers and scorpion throwers to be able to bring down the bulk of the heavy horse of the Lannister army, before needing to engage in close combat.”

Lord Blackwood spoke then his voice quiet. “They will be coming from Pendric Hill’s yes? That will give them a lot of momentum and speed, if we fire the arrows quick enough, or light them with fire as we did during the battle of the fords, we can slow them down and create enough carnage on the river’s southern bank that we could easily take out at least half their number.”

Brynden spoke then. “Aye that sounds like a very reasonable plan. If it is alright with Your Grace, if we use this plan we shall lessen the need for our own men to be brought into direct conflict or even risk their deaths.”

Brynden looked at Wallace Stark for a long moment and saw the deliberation going on in his face and then heard the man say in a cold and collected voice. “Very well then, have men stationed on the east and west bank. The archers and the scorpions should be facing the southern bank so that we can have the sun facing the enemy as we fire the arrows.”

After that there was some more discussion and then once all was settled, they all left to their respective tents to get ready for the battle that would come that evening. Soon enough it arrived, and as before every battle, Brynden said a small prayer to the warrior to keep him and his family safe and to show him the way. He was armoured and mounted when the sounds of horns reached him, followed closely by a howl of a wolf. The battle had begun, when he and his men entered the fray the battle was already raging, Brynden could see the blood of the fallen soldiers painting the river red. Pushing that thought from his mind he rode on cutting down men, left and right, swinging his sword as hard as he could he kept swinging, on and on.

On he went swinging and swinging, cutting through men left and right, he hacks and swings, and blocks and swings. Some of the enemies’ blows connect with him and he grimaces with pain, but still he pushes on. The battle rages on and Brynden gives as good as he gets cutting through more and more men until there seems to be no more men to cut through, he eventually realises that either the Lannister host as retreated or they have been slain. Either way the way to the Golden Tooth is clear, the process of ending the Lannisters has begun for good now.


	39. Son, Have You Seen The World?

**King Tommem I Baratheon**

One war had stopped and another had begun, simply because one could not simply default on payments to the Iron Bank and expect to survive. Tommem was not a great a fool as his brother or his mother had been, he knew what not paying the loans off to the Iron Bank could mean for him, his wife and their daughter, and it was not a risk he was willing to pay. And though he was racked with guilt, he had agreed to the invasion of the Riverlands, clear off the riverlords and their rebellion, bring them back into the fold and take their supplies and make it easier for gold and other resources to come to King’s Landing from the Westerlands.  Of course as with most everything in life, what sounded easy on paper was much harder to do in real life. The riverlands were no longer as divided as they had been during the wars of autumn, they were united behind the Blackfish and King Eddard Stark and they were proving to be quite a pain. Already a force of the riverlords and northmen had defeated a host led by Ser Damion Lannister at the Tumblestones and had taken gold and plunder from the Golden Tooth and the border. Another force under the command of Ser Alton Rivers had mustered and given battle to the force Tommem had mustered at the Blackwater Rush and though Tommem and his men had managed to defeat that host, they had suffered many losses, some of which had had Tommem questioning the wisdom of this ploy in the first place. As of now they were camped on the banks of the Trident, where Tommem’s father had won his crown many years ago, on the western and northern banks Tommem knew the army of the Vale under the command of Harrold Arryn was camped, along with it whatever men had come from the north under the command of the Lord Jon Bolton and Jon Umber.

Winter was causing chaos amongst their supply lines and it also meant that Tommem and his lords were anxious to see this battle over and done with so that they could then move on, to where he knew not, but they needed to move onward if they wished to see their plan come to success. And so he had called a war council, in the command tent along with Tommem sat his goodbrothers Ser Garlan Tyrell and the Lord Commander of his Kingsguard Ser Loras Tyrell, Lord Dickon Tarly, Ser Aurane Velaryon and his cousin Lord Martyn Lannister as well as many other lords from Dorne, the Stormlands and from the Crownlands. Tommem spoke. “We all know what the situation is. Across the bank of the river, sit the enemy. They outnumber us by a large portion, but we have experience and their supply lines are just as if not more badly affected than ours. I wish to know what other news our scouts have managed to bring us.”

His cousin Lord Martyn Lannister, who reminded him a great deal of his great uncle Kevan spoke then his voice clear. “Our scouts have reported seeing more men marching in from the West. They have not been discreet though Your Grace. They fly the direwolf and trout banners of House Stark and House Tully, it can only be the men under Wallace Stark’s command come to finish of this war that they have started. Once they join the host of the falcon and the giant, we shall be outnumbered and unable to retreat safely back to King’s Landing.”

“Perhaps retreat might be the best option then? And live to fight another day. Anything more would appear to be suicide Your Grace.” Aurane Velaryon said.

Tommem looked at him and said simply. “And all that will do is lead them straight to King’s Landing which is what they want us to do. No I shall not let it be said that I slipped away from a fight like a coward. I am the son of Robert Baratheon, and it is time people were reminded of what it was my family is famous for. We shall attack these fools on the northern and western bank and we shall scatter them. Prince Oberyn you shall attack the western bank, use whatever means necessary to rid yourselves of the northern scum. I shall command the main host against the Valemen and we shall do the same to them as well.”

His cousin spoke then and asked. “And what of the reserve Your Grace, and the northern host that is fast coming towards us here? Would you leave them to chance? To take them in the rear, or would you rather lead them here?”

Tommem looks at his cousin and says simply. “You shall be leading the reserve cousin. You shall take them south and then towards the west and meet the northern host in combat. That is what shall happen.”

After that the war council disbanded and they all went their separate ways in preparation of what was to come. Once Tommem was dressed in his armour, Ser Loras came and found him and together they walked to their horses, as they mounted and waited for the battle to begin, Tommem turned to his Lord Commander and asked him. “Do you think Martyn will fall for the ploy?”

Loras was silent for a moment and then he said. “I believe so Your Grace. Martyn Lannister still hungers for revenge against those who did his family wrong. He might be like Ser Kevan in some aspects, but in others he is still a hot headed youth who is eager for glory. If he truly means to betray you to the three kings, he will do it when he attacks, or he will die. Either way we shall know by the end of the battle.”

Tommem nodded and then after that they were silent as they waited for the war horn to be blown that would signal the beginning of battle. After waiting what seemed like an age, the horn was sounded and Tommem drew forth his sword and bellowed for all to hear. “Today, they shall sing of our victory me of the true throne. Today we shall write our names into history. Today we shall wipe the stains from Westeros. TO VICTORY!”

There was a loud roar as 15,000 men roared their approval and cheers and shouts of “Baratheon!” And “King Tommem!” Could be heard. Tommem waited for the right moment and then spurred his horse on and his men followed him and the battle of the Trident began. It was chaos, Tommem swung his sword many a time, left and right, cutting down men as fast as he could, using all he had been taught, swinging, hacking and cutting men down. He saw his sword red with their blood and still he continued, swinging, hacking and slashing, cutting men down like they were nothing more than flies. Some of the enemy’s blows connected with his armour, cutting him and drawing blood, the rest missed or he blocked, but by the time he came across Harrold Arryn both of them were drenched in blood and mud and sweat.

They met in a clash of steel, sword on sword and on it went. Swinging, blocking, hacking and slashing, on went their dance.  Sparks continued to fly, and Tommem had never felt so alive as he did in that moment, the battle raged, but for him it was just him and the Arryn King, their lives hanging in the balance. It was a rush of adrenaline for him, and it was a challenge, someone actually trying to kill him. They hacked away at each other until they couldn’t anymore, and as they both looked for some sort of energy to draw strength from, of course Tommem had never been the quickest of people in terms of reflexes and so he missed the cue for another barrage of parrying, and found Harrold Arryn’s sword thrust deep in his eye, as the blood came pouring out he staggered for purchase on his horse, and then felt the sword thrust through his throat. Tommem Baratheon, first of his name King of the Iron Throne, died on the ninth day of the seventh month of the 306th year After Aegon’s Landing. With him ended any hope of a solid dynasty from Robert Baratheon, what would follow would be uncertain and more carnage. 


	40. Addicted To You

**Lady Shireen Lannister**

Her cousin- or was he her cousin in truth? - King Tommem Baratheon was dead, slain on the banks of the Trident by Harrold Arryn King of the Vale and Sky. News of his death had sent King’s Landing into a panic, with the smallfolk and nobles alike convinced that the end of days was coming. Shireen herself had not know what to really feel, she had respected and liked her cousin truly she had but she had never truly known him, and as such did not truly mourn his passing. Of course with his death, by rights his daughter Cassana should have been the Queen, but for some reason the small council was tearing itself apart trying to decide on the right course of action, Lord Tyrion had been killed by an assassin in the night some days after news of Tommem’s death became common news. With his death, the small council fell into disarray, and Shireen had been marched from looking after her and Martyn’s son, Durran and brought before the council and told in no uncertain terms that she needed to bring the council to order. This she managed to do with some of the best luck she had ever experienced in her short life, she managed to get the three members: The Grand Maester, Lord Baelish and Lord Varys to agree on the main course of action, calming the city and getting them united and ready for the siege that would inevitably come.

The siege did eventually come, the armies of the north, the Vale and the Riverlands all camped outside the gates of King’s Landing. Preventing resources and whatever else might be of use to the city from coming in. Shireen could see from the battlements of the Red Keep that the city would cave very soon, years of war had damaged their resources beyond belief, and now they were to face the consequences of the Lannisters once more. Something her father had once said to her, often rang through her head whenever she looked out and saw the city and the tents beyond the city. “Men will talk of honour and standing together in times of trouble, but when the hounds of hell are snapping at your feet, only then do you learn what men are made of.” And it seemed that the Lannisters were not as strong as they had thought and were in fact incredibly brittle. All except her husband, Martyn was steel strong and true, she loved him dearly and she worried for him. Especially all she had heard of Wallace Stark, the King in the North. The songs and stories that came to court painted the King of the North as  a barbarian King who had come from somewhere as a punisher of the gods, in order to punish those who had troubled his people and kingdom.  As she looked at Margaery, she wondered just what would happen to the two of them and their children once the city fell as it must do.

“You seem oddly pensive Shireen. Are you feeling okay?” she heard the Queen ask.

Shireen looked at her friend and said simply. “I worry Your Grace. We have had no word from the remenants of His Grace’s army, nor has there been any word from Martyn. I worry what will happen to us and our children when the city does fall as it must. Will they spare us, or will they do as the Lannisters did twenty three years ago?”

Margaery laughed then and said softly. “Oh Shireen, you need not worry. What will come to pass will pass. There is naught we can do now, but pray and hope that the men outside our gates are better men then those that were let into the city the last time it was under siege. If not then we shall not live to face the consequences. Besides, my own sources tell me that there is a chance that a council will be called anyway to discuss the issue of the succession to the Iron Throne.”

Shireen looked at the Queen and asked. “They still plan on keeping the Iron Throne around? I would have thought a man like Wallace Stark would have wanted its complete disbandment, and an end to central rule? Surely that would have made a lot more sense to a man like him?”

“Aye, it does seem surprising considering all that we have heard of our cold wolf does it not? But it does seem as though he has long believed that you are the rightful heir of the Iron Throne, not my daughter and not my former husband. It would seem that if the city falls then, you might very well end up fulfilling your father’s dream and sit that ugly chair.” Margaery said.

Shireen looked at her friend then and said. “I do not wish to sit that throne. It has brought our family nothing but pain and suffering, let them melt it down for all I care. The less I have to do with that damnable chair the better.”

Margaery looked at her with some sympathy and said. “Ah my dear, if only life were that simple. But you know what men are like when they get an idea into their heads. They will not let it go until; they have seen it come into fruition.”

Shireen looked at the throne then, seeing it glitter in the sun, and was about to respond when she heard the sound of fighting and shouting from outside the doors. Looking to Margaery they took hold of one another’s hands and walked up the steps to the throne where they both sat upon it. They sat there for what seemed an age, as they heard the sounds of battle raging outside the doors, Shireen praying that her and Margaery’s children would be safe in the nursery. Eventually after what seemed an age, the fighting stopped and all was silent, and then the doors to the throne room flew open and in walked four people that Shireen had heard much about. Leading them, with a direwolf by his side, was a man who could only be Wallace Stark, with his iron and bronze crown atop his head, dressed in dark blue armour, by his side was a tall woman who looked like the maiden come to life to Shireen a direwolf was by her side as well, and behind them were a man with fiery auburn hair, and a man with blonde hair. Wallace Stark stopped before the foot of the throne where Ser Boros Blount stood looking uncertain of what to do. “My ladies,” Stark’s voice was calm and collected. “I hope we did not surprise you too much. But we have claimed King’s Landing as you can quite clearly see. We do not wish to bring more bloodshed to the city. The war is over, Tommem Baratheon is dead, and we wish to establish some sort of peace between the kingdoms. Now the only matter that is left for us is will you surrender peacefully, or must we cut you down?”

Shireen could feel her hand shaking in Margaery’s and her friend squeezed her hand in reassurance and said as calmly as possible. “We would be more than willing to prevent any more bloodshed by any means necessary Your Grace. But first we must know one thing. Are our children safe and can you guarantee their safety?”

Shireen saw Wallace Stark’s jaw tighten, and remembered the comparisons to Tywin Lannister that were often made of the northman. His voice was calm when he said. “I can my lady, Lady Cassana and Lord Durran are safe and sound. They shall not be harmed so long as you surrender and co-operate with us following your surrender.”

Shireen looked at Margaery then, and after a mental exchange said aloud. “Then we shall surrender and give ourselves over to your judgement and justice.” With that they both got up and walked down the steps of the Iron Throne, before kneeling before Wallace Stark and together in unison saying. “Accept our offer of surrender and bring peace and stability to King’s Landing. Our fate, and the fate of the people is now in your hands.”


	41. The Last Resort

**King Wallace I Stark**

King’s Landing stank worse than some of the army camps that Wallace had been a part of in recent times. How anyone could desire to live here he would never understand. The city was nothing great, and was always filled to the brim with intrigue and cockroaches; Wallace could not wait to go home. Of course there were certain things that had needed to be done before he could return home, and though he loathed being part of the negotiations, he knew that if he ever wanted the north and his children to be safe then they were essential.  With King Tommem dead, and no clear succession laid out, Wallace and his fellow kings as well as their most important bannermen and the lords of the crownlands, the Stormlands, the Reach and Dorne had all met within King’s Landing to discuss the issue of succession. With Tommem dead and his daughter but a babe, it was decided that instead of completely splintering the kingdoms, the Iron Throne would remain but it would hold dominion over only a select few kingdoms. These included the Reach, the Stormlands, the Crownlands, the Westerlands and surprisingly Dorne, when asked about this, Prince Oberyn had simply said. “My nephew’s wife died of the illness that the Targaryens gave her, we no longer wish to push for any sort of vengeance or retribution, we could benefit more from being part of the throne’s control than otherwise.” And so after much discussion and deliberation, it was decided that Lady Shireen would be named Queen of the four kingdoms. Her father’s claim was finally validated, and she and her husband Martyn Lannister were sworn in as Queen and Lord Protector of the Realm some three weeks ago by the High Septon.

Though Wallace did not truly bother himself with conferring with the new queen or her husband, he did have to admit that Shireen did have some inner steel to her and that her dignity seemed more northern than southern, something he could appreciate. Once Shireen had been named Queen of the Four Kingdoms it was decided that the terms of peace could finally be discussed. After many long days spent in a council chamber with men he would have rather killed than sat down with, Wallace finally emerged with terms he was happy with. These included: The independence of the Iron Islands as a northern protectorate until such time as Wallace’s nephews Balon and Urrigon Greyjoy were old enough to rule on their own, further to this Wallace’s nephews were released into his custody and had already been sent north under a heavy guard. Furthermore, the Lannisters were to pay large sums of reparations for the damage that they had caused to the Free Kingdoms of the north, the Vale and the Riverlands, the Iron Throne would also recognise the Free Kingdoms as completely separate and independent kingdoms, free from the Iron Throne’s control or interference. And finally the one thing that had been on Wallace’s agenda since he had first learnt of what the man had done, if the Iron Throne wanted him and his gone, then Petyr Baelish would have to be executed, his crimes were numerous and it seemed the new monarchs were only too happy to oblige. After a short trial, Wallace swung the sword himself and removed Baelish’s head from his shoulders and would take it back with him to the north to serve as a trophy.

With all these things done, Wallace often found himself wondering why they were still in King’s Landing, but of course there was always something that needed to be done. And Arya had asked him if it would be okay for her to visit the places her father had visited before his death, and he had of course obliged. The opening of the door, and Nymeria bounding in alerted him to her presence, he held out his hand and when she took it he pulled her into his lap. Nuzzling her hair he asked her. “So, how did it all go? Was it as you expected?”

Arya was silent for a moment and then she said. “It was strange, seeing these places and knowing that father had walked the halls and had drank and eaten there. And going to the Sept of Baelor was indeed a very surreal experience, seeing the place where he was executed, and the place where his blood dripped.” She trailed off then.

Wallace kissed her hair then and said. “You are well though Arya? We will be leaving very soon. And then we never have to come south of the neck ever again if you do not wish.”

Arya turned to face him then and kissed him on the lips, before saying softly. “I know my love, truly I do. But of course we shall at some point have to come to the Vale to see your mother and brother, as well as to see Sansa and her daughters. So long as we never come to King’s Landing again, I shall be very happy.”

Wallace smiled then and said. “Then I shall be very happy to oblige you. Besides, I grow weary of constantly listening to grown men argue like little children about the most insignificant of things. Southerners truly are a bunch of idiots when it comes to most things. I look forward to seeing our children again and breathing in clean northern air.”

Arya was about to respond when there was a knock on the door. Sighing Wallace called out for whoever it was to come in, and as Arya readjusted herself in his lap, they saw themselves looking at Lady Maege Mormont, one of their most trusted advisors. She seemed unfazed by what she saw before her and simply said. “Apologies my King and Queen, but there was a letter from the wall, and Queen Shireen and her husband wish to discuss it most urgently.”

Wallace sighed and once Arya had gotten up off his lap and kissed him goodbye, he got up and followed Maege into the council chamber, where he found, Queen Shireen her husband Martyn Lannister, King Harrold, Ser Brynden, Lord Osgood Rosby and Ser Garlan Tyrell. Queen Shireen spoke then. “Now that King Wallace has joined us we can now discuss this letter that has come from the wall.  Lord Commander Bowen Marsh has written requesting more men and funds to help rebuild the wall in case of a wildling invasion. King Wallace what more can you tell us about the situation at the Wall?”

Wallace thought for a moment and then replied. “Well following my return north I sent men who were either prisoners of war or who volunteered north to the castles along the wall, and whatever extra money that was left from taxes and rebuilding was sent north to help refurbish specific castles along the wall to make them more inhabitable and respectable for such an old and good order.”

“What do you make of Marsh’s request for more men and supplies then? If you believe you clearly gave him enough to last, why should he ask for more?” Martyn Lannister asked.

Wallace is silent for a moment and then replies. “I gave the watch enough to last them through till the present time. I spared what I could, and gave them that. It is only natural that now that the kingdoms are all at peace that Marsh should seek to ask us as a whole united front for more aid. The wildlings have been mustering for some time, whether they march or not is another matter entirely. But I would rather have the wall completely secure and safe than take a chance of another Long Lake happening.”

There was some murmuring at that and then the Blackfish said. “We have just brought peace to the lands. It seems like no extra stretch to do something similar north of the neck, if it means less fighting and that we can all sleep a little easier at night. I say we should all agree to send aid and provisions.”

King Harrold voiced his agreement. “Aye, what the Blackfish says is true. We cannot allow the wall to fall into the state it was under the Targaryens or even Robert Baratheon. We have more of a duty now than we ever had before. We must make sure the Night’s Watch and the Wall is ready for whatever threats might come to its way.”

Shireen was silent and then said. “Very well, we shall all agree to send however much aid we deem appropriate to the Watch. And should King Wallace require assistance we shall give it to him and the Watch.”

After that the meeting broke up and Wallace returned to his and Arya’s chambers. Where they spent the night making love, and in the morning they rode forth from King’s Landing, and began the long journey home. A month later, they arrived back in Winterfell, to be greeted by their children Robb and Lyarra, Wallace looked at his wife and children and prayed that peace could last. He would give them the world if they so asked.


	42. Down By The River

**Maester’s Epilogue**

Following the signing of the peace of King’s Landing on the twelfth day twelfth month of the 306th year After Aegon’s Landing, the Iron Throne’s dominions were vastly reduced. No longer were there seven kingdoms under the Iron Throne’s control, though for many years that had been the case it was formally recognised under this peace treaty. The kingdoms that remained sworn to the throne, were those that had the most to gain from doing so: The Westerlands, The Reach, Dorne and the Stormlands. These kingdoms remained firmly behind the Iron Throne, upon which Shireen Lannister sat, with her husband Martyn serving as Lord Protector, their children Durran, Willem, Elyssa and Marcos all grew up in King’s Landing, with Durran being called a young version of Robert Baratheon in his prime without the many vices, Willem was quiet and reserved the second son who knew where and when to be seen, he was named Lord of Storm’s End by his mother and upon his sixteenth nameday took hold of the seat and the lordship. Elyssa the perfect lady, the mirror image of her mother with black as night hair and blue eyes was wed to Dorros Velaryon the heir to the Driftmark. Marcos Lannister the third of Shireen and Martyn’s sons was raised to the Kingsguard in his fifteenth year, knighted the previous year by Ser Loras Tyrell, it was the rose of Highgarden who placed the white cloak upon his shoulders at a tourney in King’s Landing to celebrate his mother’s twentieth year on the throne.

In Dorne, Prince Doran Martell became the longest ruling Prince yet, ruling well into his sixties before eventually dying in his sleep one night. His daughter Princess Arianne succeeded him and ruled well, her marriage to Ser Gorin Gargalen uniting two old families that had once been closer than blood. Their children Edric, Arthur and Mors all brought fame and glory to Dorne and to House Martell through their exploits in tourneys and in the campaigns against pirates in the Stepstones. Arianne also went a long way to repairing relations with the Reach and House Tyrell, by seeing her son and heir Edric wed to Willas Tyrell’s daughter Naerys. With that one action peace between the two regions was ensured. Arianne’s uncle and bastard cousins served as her closest advisors and when Prince Oberyn died in his sleep as well, a great sense of loss and mourning enveloped Dorne, for the Prince they had loved the most.

The Reach itself saw peace and prosperity under Willas Tyrell’s reign, ending the follies of his father Mace, and ensuring that his bannermen knew they were appreciated, Tyrell saw two of his sons and one of his daughters by Alyssa Waynwood married to his bannermen. Including his eldest son and heir Leyton a big lad who was bold and brave and won many a maiden’s hearts. The Reach though lived in constant worry over what would happen when Balon and Urrigon Greyjoy came to maturity, for they remembered the wrath of the Wallace Stark all too well. Ser Garlan Tyrell assumed his place as Lord of Brightwater Keep with his with Leonnette by his side, together they brought the castle under order and had five children: three boys and two girls, to ensure that their succession was secure. It was fair to say that domestically the Reach was safe and sound.

The Westerlands were of greater concern for the crown. After Tyrion Lannister’s death without issue, by rights Tommem Baratheon’s daughter Cassana should have been Lady of the Rock, and yet the Queen and the Lord Protector had with the agreement of the former Queen Margaery Tyrell, betrothed their son Durran to Cassana, and so did not wish for the crown to have control over all the main territories. Hence a royal decree was issued naming Willem Lannister, the Lord Protector’s twin brother as the Lord of the Rock. A marriage between him and Lady Margaery was soon arranged and happened in the Sept of Baelor in quick time. It was to be the Lady Margaery’s final marriage. The couple had four children, three sons and one daughter. And the two became a power couple that brought the Westerlands back to prosperity and away from the harms of war.

As to those kingdoms that became known as the Free Kingdoms, we shall look now at the greatest of them all, the north. Wallace Stark forever known in the south, as the northern Tywin Lannister ruled from 300 A.L. until 337 A.L., during that time he brought the north to greatness once more, ensuring that they never again suffered from southern influence. He was remembered as a kind and just man to those who followed him and were loyal to him, to those who tried to disobey him he met them with a harsh word or in the case of the Lockes of Oldcastle who raised themselves up in rebellion in 317 A.L. fire and steel. With his wife Arya, he had five children: Robb his heir a good and kind fellow with steel in his blood, Lyarra his eldest child who was a sweet girl, Edrick a wild and rash fellow who had the wolf’s blood, Donnor the quiet one who was also sly and cunning and finally Alysanne a fighter if there ever was one. They all had direwolves as well.

The Vale itself was at peace, the lords were all happy to have someone as brave and noble and honourable as Harrold Arryn ruling them. With his wife Sansa Stark, he had four daughters, the eldest Catelyn was betrothed and later wed to King Eddard Stark, the second Elyssa was betrothed and wed to Prince Robb Stark, the third Anya became a fighter the like of which would be sung of for many years to come, the fourth Serena became a scholar and helped her father on many matters. The Vale saw many years of peace under King Harrold, with the mountain clans having been dealt fire and steel many years before, and none else willing to take their place.

The Riverlands, often a very turbulent region for most of history, found peace and harmony under the leadership of Ser Brynden ‘the blackfish’ Tully. A  man who had never thought he would ever have to do any leading outside of battle, he found himself quite capable of manoeuvring through the political minefield that was Riverlander politics. Under his guidance King Eddard Stark, only child of King Robb Stark the Young Wolf, grew into a fine young man, good at arms and a smart thinker both politically and otherwise. The king grew up with his cousins Minisa and Edmund Tully and often spent time in the Vale with his future bride to be. As to the blackfish’s own son, Edmund Tully grew up to be a stubborn young man much like his father, undyingly loyal to his cousin King Eddard and deeply in love with his cousin Minisa. When their marriage was announced all around the Riverlands sung songs of joy and true love.

And now the Iron Islands, under the protectorship of the north they saw peace for the first time in a long while, as the skeletons that had lingered since the days of Balon Greyjoy’s first rebellion were thrown out and the dust was cleared. Rodrik Harlaw ruled the isles in his great nephews names for fourteen years seeing that peace and order was restored and rebellious lords were dealt with. When Balon and Urrigon Greyjoy arrived on the isles at the age of fourteen they proved themselves by challenging those who would question them in private and besting them all in single combat. And from that day forth the Isles saw peace and no longer questioned the right to rule of the Greyjoys.

Across the narrow sea the dragons still lived. Daenaerys Targaryen and her legitimised brother Aelix plotted their return to Westeros, by planning for conquest, they conquered Ibben and its colonies and began ruling the island and using it as  a way to gain information on the goings on of the wider world whilst their two dragons Viserion and Drogon grew bigger. Daenaerys’ son by Aegon, Daeron grew to maturity on Ibben and grew to be a warrior first and foremost a thinker second, when his mother’s dragon laid a clutch of eggs, the first egg that hatched was one he claimed, a dark red dragon he named Caraxes after the bloodwyrm of Daemon Targaryen. Daenaerys and Aelix had three children during their time on Ibben, two boys named Laenor and Maegor who both bonded with dragons and a girl named Rhaella whose dragon died in its egg. The stage was set for another invasion soon, but how soon and what would the cost be?


End file.
